The Beginning of the End
by Ceies
Summary: We do know how his story ends. 14 years of Azkaban, breaking out of jail, losing the war. But how did it start? Because there was a time, when even Rodolphus Lestrange was just an ordinary boy in the Hogwarts Express. Follow Rodolphus and his schoolmate Lucius through their time at Hogwarts. (not really Marauders, but about the same time)
1. The Sorting Hat

Hello there,

this is my first Fanfiction in english. So apparently, english isn't my mother language. I still like it, writing and reading. But since I'm still trying and it's my first, I'm sorry for any mistakes in it. Especially since I don't have a Beta yet. Feel free to contact me, if you are interested! Anyway should you find mistakes, most of all with the grammar, feel free to inform me, even if you're not the Beta and not interested in the job :D

So about this story!

It actually started as a profile for a Character in a roleplay game. (Rodolphus^^). Then I wrote some OneShots and then I thought – actually, I could make this a continuous story. I have to admit, that even though Rodolphus is the actual main character in this story, Lucius is maybe my favorite of all the Harry Potter characters – and I do apologise if he is a little to perfect in some chapters –, so the story started to center more ond more around both Lucius and Rodolphus, instead of Rodolphus alone. I started writing it in german, so I have some Chapter's in german, and only recently decided to start translating it, since I myself currently am hardly reading any german and a lot of english Fanfiction.

The Story is mostly (though not solely) written from Rodolphus' perspective and starts with his and Lucius' first day at Hogwarts and his Sorting. There are some other PoV's here and there, but you will see.

About the rating... Well, this is my first story, so rating it was rather difficult. I first want to go for M due to some more detailed Cruciatus-scenes in the later chapters... However seeing as none of the Harry Pooter movies hat a high rating I'm not so sure... So I thought, I just settle for T and should it really get to cruel (which I actually don't think – please talk to me, if you see it differently later on) – I'll change the rating.

Now, please enjoy.

 **The Sorting Hat**

 **1** **st** **September 1966**

His eyes were glued to the ceiling of the Great Hall. He had heard many things about this hall from his father and uncle. He was even sure he remembered a story of his mother – even though he hardly remembered her at all. His Mum had died years ago and he barely remembered what she looked like, but whenever he tried to remember her, he imagined her on their divan in the living room, telling them about her sorting. After all the things he'd heard, he was quite sure he already knew Hogwarts inside out, that there would hardly be anything left to discover. After all, his family was one of the oldest pureblood houses in England and Hogwarts was one of the most magical places in the country – so, of course, he wouldn't just start his first day in school unprepared like a common Muggle. It had been rather amusing watching those clueless primitives oohing and ahhing at Platform 9 ¾ and even in the Hogwarts-Express they wouldn't shut up for a minute. Still, when they crossed the sea and when the shape of the castle first came into view and now, as he entered the Great Hall, even he himself was stunned speechless.

At least he didn't make such a show of his stupidity as the mudbloods did. One of them even dared to enter his compartment on the train.

He'd been alone then. Sitting quietly and cross-legged on the bench, cooling his cheek against the glass. He'd watched his father leave the platform, a dark-skinned witch excitedly searching for something in her trunk and a pair of twins with sandy hair waving their goodbyes to their parents and he'd felt rather hungry. He hadn't been nervous, really. He'd known everything there was to know about the school.

He knew about the Slytherin common room in the dungeons, about the kitchen with its army of elves, he'd seen images of the Great Hall and of the lake and the castle. He knew about the Bloody Baron as if he'd actually met him in person. And from a thousand of his father's rants he also knew about how Dumbledore ruined the school. That was why he didn't feel more than mild scorn for those clueless first years outside. All those stupid children with the wands they didn't deserve and treated like a particularly fascinating toy. His own wand was securely tucked away in his robes.

He'd been just about to sink away from the window into the paddings of his seat when the door burst open. A brown haired boy with the biggest glasses Rodolphus Lestrange had ever seen was standing in the doorway.

"Is this taken?" he bellowed, pointing at one of the seats next to Rodolphus.

Rodolphus cocked an eyebrow. The boy was at least one head taller than him and he nearly stank of Muggle. The clothes, the manners... most of all his overbite, which would have been treated already, had he been raised magically.

"Yes, sorry," said the Lestrange, placing his owl cage at the seat next to him. The boy wasn't leaving, though.

Behind him, another appeared. This one, a ginger-haired, looked older. "Hey, shorty!" The red haired barked at Rodolphus. "You can't have the place for yourself! The train is full."

"Oh I'm sorry," mumbled Rodolphus, "you're welcome to stand."

The boys ignored his wishes and just sat down – the red-haired opposite to him and the Muggle to his right.

"I said-"

"You asking me to hit you?" threatened the younger, obviously encouraged that one of the older boys had his back.

Rodolphus quieted instantly. He'd always been smaller than everybody else. He was hardly taller than his younger brother, so he wasn't exactly inclined to start a more physical argument. Sulkily he slid as far away from the two as he possibly could, which only resulted in giving them even more space.

When the door opened again, a tall boy with shoulder lengthed, plaited, platinum blonde hair entered. Rodolphus thought he recognized the young Malfoy immediately. He surveyed the group with his icy grey eyes before his gaze lingered on the Lestrange boy, who felt oddly ashamed that a Malfoy, of all people, found him in such company.

"You are Lestrange," Malfoy noted, "Stephanus' son, aren't you? Rodolphus..."

Rodolphus was slightly surprised that the other boy even knew his first name and his father's name. Rodolphus had prepared himself for a lot, but even he didn't know the other boy's first name. Not even his parent's names. They were his father's... well 'friends' would be too strong of a word... anyway Rodolphus had had hardly anything to do with them so far, though he certainly knew the most important family names.

He nodded silently. Then he decided that the platinum hair and the haughty expression on his face were enough to justify his first estimation of the other boy being a Malfoy.

"Malfoy," he shared his assumption with the other boys.

"Lucius," said the blonde. "And you are...?" Malfoy looked to the other two. His facial expression contorted slightly when he recognized the older boy's appearance.

"Arthur Weasley," the red haired introduced himself. Surprised, Rodolphus took the boy's appearance in more thoroughly. His father had told him about this family of blood traitors. Obviously, Lucius had known him before – or just recognized the Weasley-look, since he didn't seem startled at all.

"Obviously," he mumbled looking at the last boy. Like Rodolphus, he seemed to be sure he was Muggleborn at first glance. He looked back at Rodolphus. With his eyebrow cocked, he seemed slightly amused.

"Nice company you have...," he joked with an ironic sneer. "Shouldn't we... search more for suiting company for the trip?"

Immediately, he felt relieved that Lucius didn't falsely assume he'd chosen his fellow passengers.

"Nah," the weasel spoke. "Don't be so cocky, Malfoy," he actually sounded a bit threatening. But then he looked to the younger one. "Where did we get here? A Lestrange and a bloody Malfoy...?" he actually spat the names. "I could think of a good deal of people I'd rather be with... I think I prefer standing after all."

Lucius looked enraged as he stepped aside to let the other two pass.

"Better a Squib than a Malfoy. Their stupidity is contagious," mumbled the Weasley, passing the Malfoy and turning Malfoy's frown into a dark scowl.

"You should know. I heard your brother was a Squib, Weasley," Lucius hissed. At least he was trying to sound quick-witted, Rodolphus thought, but even if he did a fairly decent job, his remark sounded a little bit shaky. Still... Rodolphus was impressed – Lucius surely knew a lot.

"You're a first year, too, aren't you? Take care who you spend your time with. Wouldn't want you to bring the Weasley fleas into the Slytherin common room," he jested when the two of them were alone. At least Rodolphus thought it must have been a jest, though Lucius sounded dead serious. "I mean, you do want to get into Slytherin?"

He sat down where the Weasley sat before. Rodolphus nodded.

When the compartment door opened again, two sisters entered who even Rodolphus recognized as the elder Black sisters. Neither of the two seemed to care much about the boys. The elder one seemed to emit a dark aura, he thought, effectively killing any sort of fun he could have had with Malfoy.

He didn't really know whether or not he liked the Malfoy. He seemed annoyingly arrogant. Rodolphus thought that was kind of cool when the mudblood and the blood traitor were around, but he didn't tune down on his haughtiness even when he was alone with Rodolphus. Rod actually was used to arrogant people. His brother was arrogant, and his father too. And Merlin knew Rodolphus as well... But Lucius took that to a whole new level, he realized. Still, as he didn't meet any other first years he'd want to spend time with, he stayed at his side even after they left the Express.

Even now he stood next to Lucius, who didn't even seem to look at the stunning ceiling.

"The candles and the ceiling are bewitched," the Malfoy explained in an annoyed tone to a girl who ecclesiastically craned her head, as if this information could diminish her delight. Rodolphus too hoped she'd calm down since her excitement was rather irritating. But she only looked at the Malfoy with admiration in her eyes and didn't answer nor calmed down.

"I knew," Rodolphus said, more to himself than to Lucius.

"Of course you knew, but she didn't," he explained with a mild smile.

They stopped talking when one of the teachers started reading out the new students' names. Professor McGonagall, she had introduced herself, and Lucius had informed him that she was head teacher of Gryffindor and taught Transfiguration and that she was an ingenious witch, if only she weren't one of Dumbledore's most loyal Muggle-friendly followers.

"Abbott, Logan," was the first name and a stout blonde boy stepped forward. Lucius silently smiled to himself, while Rodolphus excitedly followed the procedure. He'd heard so much of the old hat, but when he started singing before, it was still a shock. He could hardly pull himself together, to stop himself from oohing and ahhing like the Half- and Mudbloods around him.

"Hufflepuff!" the hat screamed after a while and while Rodolphus snorted derisively, applause erupted from the yellow table. Rodolphus grew more nervous by the second, as he watched 'Blackthorne, Serene' join Hufflepuff as well before 'Craster, Ann' was the first in Slytherin and the next two again were put to Hufflepuff. Two Gryffindors, another Slytherin, a Ravenclaw... and so on. Other than Rodolphus, Lucius' didn't seem to have a care in the world...

Finally 'Jorkins, Bertha' was sorted into Ravenclaw drawing ever so close to the letter 'L'.

"Lestrange, Rodolphus," McGonagall shouted and Lucius pushed him forward with a light nudge to the back.

"See you later," he said as if he had no doubt they'd meet again at the Slytherin table in just a few minutes.

Why was Rodolphus so nervous? Did he not feel confident, too? After all, he'd been absolutely sure on the train, hadn't he? Where did all this doubt come from all of a sudden?

On his long way to the chair and the hat, he saw the Muggleborn with the overbite again, who scowled at him. Maybe Weasley had explained to him why, in Rod's and Lucius' eyes, he wasn't worth more than a boring Muggle. With that thought, he sat on the chair and McGonagall donned the hat on his head.

"Sly...," it already screamed through the hall, but then it suddenly stopped. Rodolphus flinched.

"You had me almost fooled, boy," the hat mumbled and for a second, Rod feared everyone would hear what he said. Then it occurred to him; it only spoke in his head. Why had it stopped, though? Was something wrong with him? "Therin" Rod finished the word in his head. The hat knew he belonged in Slytherin. He must know! "Slytherin" he whispered, hoping the hat would hear and abide his wish. But the hat remained stubbornly silent. For a second, he even thought, it had fallen asleep. Searching for help, he tried to look to his fellow first years, but the hat had slid all the way over his eyes and he could hardly see anything at all.

Finally, it spoke again: "Whether I know that you belong to Slytherin?" the hat repeated Rodolphus' own thoughts. "Oh yes... You would be happy in Slytherin." Rodolphus was as if the hat was laughing at him. If he agreed with Rodolphus, why didn't he just put him with the snakes?

"But, little Lestrange, there are things you have yet to learn. Important things. Things you won't learn in Slytherin, but things that could turn you into something great. Someone strong and helpful to this world. But Slytherin won't teach you these things. Without those things, I cannot say whether you will ever find true happiness in life."

Rodolphus didn't understand. "What are you talking about?" he mumbled.

"You will be happy in Slytherin, but it won't turn you into a happy human being. You won't be happy in Hufflepuff, but they can teach you everything you need, to find true happiness in your adult life."

Now Rodolphus understood even less.

"If you don't want to send me to Slytherin nor Hufflepuff, why...-"

"Not so fast, kid," the hat schooled, "you're not a Ravenclaw."

Rodolphus felt rage boiling inside. Did this flea contaminated piece of leather take him for a fool?

"Now? What is it?" the hat asked and it sounded as if it wanted Rodolphus to decide. What kind of a choice was that? The simple thought of going into Hufflepuff was disgraceful. His father would make him regret that, every waking hour of his life – maybe even beyond his death – he wouldn't put it past Stephanus Lestrange. Not to mention what others might think. His father was serving the Dark Lord and Rodolphus was expected to follow his lead... Hufflepuff was not an option. Choosing Hufflepuff would be as good as a death sentence, and the hat must've known this...

"You're certainly no Gryffindor," the hat whispered and it sounded slightly disappointed. "Well then..."

"SLYTHERIN!" It boomed through the hall.

Relieved Rodolphus sank a little bit on his chair. He'd made it. When McGonagall took the hat, he jumped up and hurried to the table at which his ancestors had sat before. The table was cheering and applauding and a slender prefect patted his shoulder hard enough to almost throw him off his feet.

"Lorenz, Elisabeth!" He didn't even pay attention when she was sorted into Gryffindor. He sat next to Ann Carsten. For a second, the thought occurred him that the hat only ever gave him the possibility to choose because he didn't want to force Rodolphus into a position where he'd oppose his father and his ideals and maybe risk his life against his will. But he swatted the thought aside like an annoying insect. He was no Hufflepuff. He belonged in Slytherin.

'Macmillan, Lisa', on the other hand, belonged in Ravenclaw before McGonagall called up "Malfoy, Lucius". At ease with himself, he turned to watch. But he'd hardly turned completely when the hat already bellowed "SLYTHERIN!" This is how it should have been for him, Rodolphus thought grudgingly. But he tried not to show his newfound discomfort and applauded politely.

The Malfoy took his time to find his way to the Slytherin table, strolling and lingering proudly until the hat had already sorted two more students.

"Your sorting took a while," he whispered to Rodolphus as he sat down next to him, but he didn't sound spiteful. It was just a little teasing, Rodolphus knew, but it bothered him nonetheless.

"Did you fear the hat would send me to Gryffindor?" he tried to come with a response. Better Gryffindor than Hufflepuff, he thought... At least that meant he'd have some desirable character traits. Gryffindors were stupid and self-righteous but at least they were brave. Hufflepuffs were just the ones nobody else wanted... If Malfoy knew, he'd nearly been placed in Hufflepuff... Would he still like him? Lucius, whom the hat decided within split seconds to be in Slytherin. Why did he care, anyway? He was in Slytherin, he belonged here!, he chastised himself. And he didn't really like the arrogant bastard to begin with, did he?

"Gryffindor?" Lucius echoed, "Not really."

"You think I'm a coward?" Rodolphus hissed, ignoring that in the meantime, a fourth and a fifth new Slytherin had joined their table.

"I didn't say that," Lucius defended himself before he turned to the new members of house Slytherin to introduce himself in best Malfoy manner.


	2. A Letter to Father

**A/N: Hey, there. I really hope, some people are reading this :) If so: This is my next chapter. The next few chapter will be rather quiet I think. They have normal classes, and I think I'll need about 4 chapters to introduce most of the more important characters in their year. This story is about Lucius and Rodolphus and their way to become death eaters, so I always thought it was quiet im portant for the stories porpose to describe what's going on in those character's heads. I also like to write rather excessively long dialogues, and I hope you don't get overly mad at me, when I spend a lot of time and words to two characters just talking with each other.**

 **With that: Have Fun!**

 **––––––––––––––––**

A letter to father.

 **4** **th** **September 1966**

" _Dear Father,_

 _most likely, you've already been informed about the good news. Still, I think, it's only appropriate to inform you personally: From this week on until the last of my days I will be a proud Slytherin. I know this is what you wanted for me. I am still..."_

He eyed the first sentences of his letter to his father. He'd rather just write: 'Made it! Slytherin it is! Greetings to the little one!", but his father would make him regret that. He was raised to be more than that... Longingly he looked over his shoulder to Malfoy, who eagerly filled his parchment with elegantly curved words.

Rodolphus angrily gritted his teeth. Their parents weren't exactly friends, but they were in contact with each other. Surely Lucius would write everything to his parents about how he and his new classmates were sorted, and then Abraxas would repeat everything to Rodolphus' father. No, Rod had to write and admit everything unless he wanted Stephanus Lestrange to find out indirectly. And Stephanus Lestrange didn't appreciate finding out crucial information – or really any kind of information – the indirect way.

He took a deep breath and tried to explain to his father how he was almost sorted into Hufflepuff in the most gentle way. He hid this bit of information behind news about his classmates, those he shared a dormitory with and those in the other houses, and told him how he'd met Weasley and the mudblood and the Black sisters and the Malfoy heir. He wondered whether his father might chastise him for talking too much, instead of coming straight to the point but Rodolphus always found it difficult to determine what his father considered important and what not... So he told everything. Better than forgetting something, he thought.

" _I'm fine and looking forward to visiting the family again at Christmas. Please convey my regards to my little brother,_

 _In love,_

 _Rodolphus Lestrange."_

It was as if he'd been writing for eternity. When he finally finished and started his walk up to the Owlery, Lucius was already gone.

He felt nervous watching the bird disappear. He'd never openly admit to it but he was afraid of his father. And it wasn't only a subtle sense of insecurity. Still, those last sentences hadn't been lies. He was looking forward to coming home for Christmas. After all, they were still his family. And he loved them. The tension slowly left him. His shoulders sank with relief as the brown owl disappeared.

"Was it really that bad?" a drawl behind him made him jump. He whirled around and the embarrassment made him blush. "You've written quite a bit."

His Slytherin comrade didn't seem to care about Rodolphus' beat red head. Rod still didn't know whether he liked the boy. He had something arrogant and confident about him that even Rodolphus, a Lestrange himself and just as pureblood as the Malfoy, felt inferior. He made you believe you were weaker, stupider or less talented than him, without even saying it out loud. Still, Rodolphus knew his father would want him to bond with the Malfoy boy; his father would deem Lucius Malfoy exactly the right company for his son. And all things considered, Rodolphus couldn't deny that he admired Malfoy despite his arrogant behavior. That he had admired him from the first day they'd met and that something about him made Rodolphus feel safe in his company...

Lucius leaned against the doorway. His long hair sleek and in place, as if he hadn't just climbed all the way up to the Owlery – a march that certainly left Rodolphus winded. The blonde had a small smile playing about his lips, absentmindedly fumbling with his cufflinks. With his icy eyes, he was quietly regarding his dark haired schoolmate.

"I thought you'd be long gone," Rod answered defiantly, crossing his arms. No! His father had taught him, that a Lestrange wouldn't bow to anyone – well aside from the Dark Lord of course – and he'd certainly not bow to that arrogant peacock of an eleven-year-old. If Malfoy wanted, he could tell the whole school, the Slytherin common room, and their dormitory about how he owned the school – or about how his father owned the school – Rodolphus didn't care. He didn't own him.

"I've been waiting for you," Lucius responded still with this shadow of a smile that Rodolphus thought was taunting him.

"What for?" he growled harshly. "Some weird hobby of yours?" He tried to sound glib, but Lucius' widening smile indicated he was failing.

"You looked as if you felt sick when you wrote the letter," he explained offhandedly and nodded to the window. "I feared you might grow nauseous and fall down the window."

He opened the door to leave the Owlery. For a moment, he hesitated, then held the door with the tips of his finger's. He expectantly looked to Rodolphus, who scowled.

"Oh, come on! I don't want to wait any longer holding the door for you. I'm not a house elf," he grumbled impatiently.

Rodolphus hesitated, then he felt a sudden rush of defiance. "As if I'd just follow you..."

For a moment, he thought Lucius would laugh at him and he actually seemed to think about doing so. But then he just shrugged. "You want to watch the birds, then?", he sneered and left.

For a moment Rodolphus felt embarrassed and stupid. If he was lucky, Lucius would write this to his father, and then Rodolphus' father... He shrugged it off and left the Owlery. He really had to stop thinking about his father. Why was it that he was still holding so much control over Rodolphus even when he was at Hogwarts? His father couldn't reach him here, but still... Enraged he trampled down the stairs.

As he entered the common room, he found the blonde sprawled over a dark green couch, reading one of their new school books. Rodolphus had already realized that Lucius tried to learn a lot of their subject material in advance. Quite a geek he was, though he didn't really brag about it in class but silently enjoyed his superiority. He didn't acknowledge Rod's arrival, so the Lestrange ignored him. He ignored all the other students too, silently making his way to the dormitory. In fact, he'd avoided most encounters with his fellow students. Not only with those from the other houses but with the Slytherins, too. He felt insecure because he still was just about the smallest of them all, even compared to the girls, and it didn't really make it any easier that he got into an argument with a fourth year the other day, who demanded his seat at the fireplace where, at the moment, Lucius had been sprawled out with not a care in the world and nobody to object. Really, it was irritating. Lestrange was just as pureblood as Malfoy was, but while they seemed to accept him in their Slytherin house hierarchy, they didn't accept him. He was the heir of the Lestrange family, one of the so-called 'sacred twenty-eight'. By right, he should be up there with the other heirs of great old families. There weren't that many, after all, were there? 28 at most and most of them weren't attending Hogwarts at the moment, not to mention being in Slytherin. So he by right should be one of the maybe 15 most valued people in the whole school these days. Only somehow he wasn't... and it was irritating. Slytherins were normally so strict with their hierarchy... only somehow, he wasn't a part of it yet. Malfoy was definitely occupying one of the top seats, despite being only a first year... The Lestrange didn't want to insist on his right, or demand it be given to him – but it was irksome, he thought, silently making his way to the dormitory.

Someone had already pulled the curtains close, cancelling out the fake light from the enchanted windows. When he silently entered, a boy with fiery hair jumped off his bed, wand in hand. Rodolphus eyed him only mildly interested. The other boy hid something under his pillow, then looked up and smiled a toothy smile. He looked impatient, though, Rod thought.

"You're Rodolphe', eh?" he asked excitedly.

"Rodolphus," he corrected.

"Right...," mumbled the red haired, "name's Tarquin."

He eyed Rodolphus shortly, then seemed to come to a conclusion as he reached under his pillow again, and hid whatever it was he held in his hand, in one of the other beds.

"Nice to meet you," answered Rod, slightly irritated by the boy. He didn't really care to know what Tarquin was doing. He remembered him from the ceremony. He'd said he was half-blood and he'd seemed annoying and somehow weird.

The boy went back to his bed. In broad daylight, Rodolphus knew, he looked a little bit as if his parents had dipped him in a paint pot once. With his bright red hair, his blue eyes and nearly papery white skin, he looked rather curious.

"You're trustworthy, right?" he asked offhandedly. "You're okay. Unlike the other two arrogant pureblood jackasses." He was obviously talking about Lucius and Aris Mason, the other purebloods in their Slytherin year. Though Aris wasn't of such noble birth as both Lucius and Rodolphus were. Obviously, Tarquin felt excluded by the other two. After only four days no less. Rodolphus had to admit, he was rather impressed at how fast Lucius and Aris had made enemies in their own dorms. For a moment, he hesitated to answer. He couldn't really tell Tarquin the half-blood that he was different from the other two Slytherin purebloods. That would indicate he'd be tolerant toward abominations like him – or even worse, mudbloods and blood traitors. His father would...

He was thinking about his father again, he realized and in a sudden burst of defiance he answered: "Oh sure not. Don't mind me. If you want to play a prank on them, just go ahead. I would recommend Malfoy but I see, you've already made that choice."

"Yeah. Aris is kind of an idiot, but the blonde thinks he's the king of the world, right?" Tarquin agreed.

It was the midst of night when a sudden scream woke him. About a second later the torches and candles came to a sudden light. Janis Johanson, a lanky boy with golden hair was sitting in his bed, his wand in hand with which he'd ignited the lights. The others sat sleepily in their beds, only Tarquin beaming with triumph and Lucius nearly standing on his mattress. The Malfoy was holding something that looked like a giant living beetle in his right hand. A red mark on his neck was evidence to where the beetle had bitten him. Malfoy calmed down quite fast, Rodolphus thought, considering the ugliness of the bug in his fingers. He keenly scanned the room, shortly zooming in on Rodolphus before turning that icy cold stare at Tarquin. For a moment he seemed to consider something, but then he jumped from his mattress and started for the window, stopping short when he realized that the fake window wouldn't open anyway. He turned around sharply. Lucius' embarrassment was written all over his face. But he couldn't really let go of the bug either, Rodolphus hoped, else it would just crawl through their dorm. After a while in which he intently looked at the beetle, he grabbed his wand and strolled in Tarquin's direction.

"Nice, Tarquin. What was that? An _engorgio?_ " but Lucius didn't leave him time to answer. "No, or you'd made it even bigger, right? And they only teach it in second grade, so I doubt you'd be able to do even that much. Did you use the fertilizer we just used in Herbology? But I don't think that one was meant to be used on bugs...," Tarquin looked agitated and afraid when Lucius stopped right in front of him. "Very nice, indeed. But what now? We have to get rid of it. We can't let it run free in our dorm, nor can we let it out." For a moment Rodolphus thought, Malfoy would make the other boy eat the beetle. Certainly, Tarquin felt the same, judging by the way he panicked.

"Malfoy...," Janis tried to intervene halfheartedly. Aris just grinned from ear to ear.

Lucius, instead of making Tarquin eat the bug, slammed it down on Tarquin's bedside cabinet. When he let go, the fist-sized monstrosity tried to get away but Lucius already had his wand pointed at it. _"Incendio,"_ he ordered and the bug suddenly ignited in bright red flames. Tarquin screamed and jumped off his bed, Janis and Aris cursed quietly but obviously Lucius didn't want to make the bug suffer even more by dragging it out, so it was over within seconds.

"You could've just trapped it," Rod complained weakly, though he knew better. Sprout had informed them that the fertilizer was deadly for insects within a few hours, so by killing it, Lucius had probably spared him an even worse fate. But still, he felt a little sick.

Suddenly the door burst open and a boy in pajamas and dishevelled brown hair entered, who Rodolphus even without his badge recognized as the fifth year prefect.

"What's going on in here?" he drawled.

"We had a little problem with an insect," Lucius shrugged. "But it's dealt with."

Maybe the prefect was too tired himself to investigate further. He eyed them all suspiciously, but then he left.

"Merlin, Malfoy," Janis groaned when they were alone again. "That was a little much, don't you think?"

Lucius looked at the halfblood challengingly. "What would you have done? Eaten it?" He gave one of his typical haughty smiles and returned to his bed.

Tarquin was eying the ash beside his bed. He glared at Lucius hatefully, but before he could do anything else, Janis had turned off the lights again. It went quiet again.

 **––––––––––––––**

 **A/N: Just if you are interested: Tarquin is actually not an OC of mine, but was featuerd in JKR's 'Wizard of the month' project from 2004-2007. I decided for him to be a Halfblood in Slytherin, born in 1955 he's slightly older than Rodolphus.**

 **Rodolphus of course is a pureblood and I decided for his borth to be in August 1955, making him one of the youngest pupils in his year.**

 **Lucius on the other hand will hav his birthday in october and thus be nearly a year older than Rodolphus.**

 **The other two boys in their house and year are OC's:**

 **Aris Mason: a pureblood and born in March.**

 **Janis Johanson: a halfblood with swedish origin and born in December.**

 **Next week I will also introduce the girls of their year and house.**

 **So long,**

 **Ceies.**


	3. Friends or no Friends

**A/N: So... this is a very long one. In all honesty the Chapter II originally was a part of this one, so it was even longer. It follows directly after the evening of Chapter II so it should be easy to follow. And again, it's still mostly about getting to know the characters. Last chapter we ware introduced to the boys of their year, house and dorm, now some of the girls will appear. Again I will name them in the end, to make it easier for you guys ^^.I hope you're not mad at me, that the story is starting so slowly. I hope you keep reading, and maybe write your opinions. As I said, it's my first english FF and I always appreciate some feedback and help with it.**

Friends or no friends?

 **5** **th** **September 1966**

When Rod woke up in the morning, he was already late for breakfast. Aside from Tarquin who was reluctantly cleaning up his cabinet, he was alone. Shortly after that Tarquin left, too.

Swearing, he changed into his clothes, grabbed the bag and ran for the great hall. This morning was Slughorn's potions class. And he couldn't be late for that. His father absolutely expected him to make it to the Slug Club. He had no doubt in his mind, that his father would find about everything that happened in Slughorns classes. After all, Slughorn always kept close connections with his more promising former students, and Stephanus Lestrange had been a member of the Slug Club. Surely overshadowed by his peer – who happened to be the Dark Lord – but still.

When he entered the Great Hall, he found Malfoy, Janis and Aris still at the Slytherin table. Emma Rowle, who cheerfully talked with Ariadne Yayley, both were in his year, sat next to Aris. Janis was sitting next to Malfoy and Janis other side was Tarquin who munched down his breakfast before jumping up and leaving the Hall in quite a hurry. Emma and Ariadne followed him, while Rodolphus took the seat beside Janis, that Tarquin had just left.

"You've missed the postal owls," Lucius explained and threw a thick envelope on his plate. "Your father really didn't waste any time to answer your letter." He frowned slightly. "What's he doing awake that late at night. Your owl hardly arrived before midnight," he guessed. Rodolphus stared at him but didn't answer. He knew exactly what his father did at nights, he just couldn't tell Lucius – or anyone for that matter.

"Well, you should read it later," Lucius went on, looking at a classy pocket watch. "We have to go. You can eat on the way down."

Lucius seemed oddly stressed. Rod quizzically looked at Janis, but then he decided it was maybe better to follow the Malfoy's lead in this case. He grabbed two Sandwiches and his bag and followed the other boys.

"What's up with him?" he asked Janis. The halfblood shrugged smiling. He as well seemed to be quite amused to see Lucius stressed just this once.

"Family affair," Lucius answered looking back to them. "Ho... Professor Slughorn is my Mother's uncle," he explained and Rodolphus finally understood. He was afraid, about his parents hearing anything bad through letters and hearsay – Lucius family was virtually a part of Hogwarts and always there.

"Maybe he'll favor his nephew," Janis joked when they entered the classroom and Lucius pulled them in the second row.

"We'll see," the Malfoy mumbled, but he didn't seem very confident about it. "Well, even if not, I'm good at potions, and I'm a Malfoy. Worry about yourself, Janis."

Janis didn't seem to understand. He looked at Rod.

"I've heard, Slughorn prefers good students and those with the prospect of a bright future. As long as we don't fail too badly at potions, he should be interested in both Malfoy and me for our names alone," he explained. He just realized he amicably spoke with someone, who didn't really have a clue about all of this. Janis was a halfblood and a Slytherin, and he apparently didn't know all that much about the world he now was a part of. However, he caught on quickly. He had a smart mind.

"Guess, there's no Johanson-Bonus," he groaned. However, he was distracted, when Aris stumbled through a group of Gryffindor girls and sat down next to him.

"I got lost," he apologized, most likely to Lucius, since everyone knew that Aris craved for his attention. Lucius didn't answer.

"Merlin, Mason!" the annoyed voice of Emma Rowle came from behind, "two stairs, and always straight ahead. Even you should manage that much." She turned to another Slytherin girl, Diana Walker-Frei, who only smiled politely. "I mean the way to our common room is more difficult. And you can manage that, right?" Emma went on.

"Not on his own," Lucius answered, smiling almost pleasantly in the girl's direction. They stopped their little flirt when the teacher entered.

Horace Slughorn entered through a side entrance. For a moment Rod thought, the man was already drunk, because of his beat red cheeks, but when he started talking, he sounded excited but sober. Suddenly the door burst open again, and Tarquin stumbled in. He looked around for a second, then found Rodolphus and made his way in Rod's direction. Slughorn stared at the boy as if he saw a ghost – not that ghosts were anything special here. Rodolphus was rather surprised, the other boy had chosen to sit next to him. Lucius, quite obviously, was furious – for whatever reason.

"Sorry," Tarquin murmured way too late and more in Rod's than in Slughorn's general direction, and apparently that was it for Slughorn. Tarquin lost 10 points for Slytherin and Lucius, if possible, looked even more irate. Also afterwards, when all was said and done, and they had to brew their first potion, Tarquin, who seemed to have absolutely no talent with potions, was the most frequent victim of Slughorn's examinations and questions.

With that, however, Malfoy seemed to be absolutely fine, since every time Slughorn passed to check on Tarquin's work, he didn't fail to notice the brilliance that was Lucius Malfoy. Rodolphus on the other side was increasingly annoyed, by the repeated visit of his teacher. He wanted to read his father's letter, and he couldn't really do so, as long as Slughorn was watching.

A suspicious blubbery sound suddenly drew Rod's attention to Tarquin's cauldron. The potion inside was not only of a totally different color than what was expected, but boiling and splattering. On reflex, he grabbed the cauldron with his bare hand and took it off the flames before the apparently acrid fluid would explode in their faces.

When Tarquin and he screamed simultaneously – Tarquin from shock, Rodolphus from the sudden pain – all eyes were on them. Slughorn was there immediately. A knowing glance, a short nod and he knew what was going on.

"Well done, Mr. Lestrange," he praised with beaming eyes and Rodolphus had the odd impression, Slughorn was even more excited about what had happened, just because the savior came from his house. "Very good reflexes," he commented, "go and get your hand treated in the infirmary." He looked around for a second. "Mr. Malfoy, please accompany Mr. Lestrange. You know the way?" Malfoy nodded. "Fantastic. 20 Points for Slytherin for Mr. Lestrang here. And...," he peaked over Lucius perfect brewage, "5 points for you for your good work, Mr. Malfoy. Mr. McTavish...", Slughorn went on in Tarquin's direction, "you'll clean up that mess. Everyone else – back to work."

Rodolphus still felt the pain throbbing in his hand. Just when he left the classroom, he noticed the displeased scowls from nearly every Gryffindor in the room. He guessed, they were less enraged about his 20 points than about Malfoy's 5, but he didn't really care anyway. He just registered the happy faces of Janis and Aris as well as the bright smile on Diana Walker-Frei's face. Those were his first points for Slytherin, he realized, they were well deserved and they'd – surely – find their way to his father's ears.

He couldn't really enjoy his glory when Lucius grabbed onto his hurting arm and dragged him out of the room. Only outside he started to register, what was actually going on around him. Lucius was sporting his normal arrogant look when he put Rod's bag in his healthy hand.

"That was rather Gryffindorish of you," he sneered. "Maybe I was wrong back then. Did the hat really offer to put you to the lions?" Rodolphus scowled at him, then walked away.

"Eh!" Lucius followed him, but his call sounded halfheartedly. "I didn't mean to offend you..." It was close to an apology, Rodolphus decided and slowed down. He hadn't been angry to begin with.

"Which way?" he asked Malfoy after he'd caught up to him, but Malfoy only shrugged.

"You said you knew, where the infirmary was?" Rodolphus frowned. "I don't want to search the whole castle in this state. It hurts like hell..."

"Well, I lied. But did you want Slughorn personally carrying you through the castle?" Malfoy answered smiling his haughty smile. "And this way it's more fun, don't you think?" But when Rod just scowled at him even darker, he pointed upwards. "Well, I know we have to go up. I think, I know the general direction, anyway."

"What?" Rodolphus hissed through gritted teeth. "Let me guess, you just saw the chance for a free double period?"

"Of course. If I'd stayed any longer, Aris would have asked me to brew his bloody potion. He didn't even get the Knotgrass right," the Malfoy seemed annoyed. "Seriously, that potion was just about as difficult as a vegetable soup, and half of our year can't even do it right. Couldn't really see what the girls were doing, but Tarquin is the worst I've ever seen, and Aris is nearly as bad." Rodolphus doubted Lucius had ever brewed a vegetable soup or any soup. He had heard that Slytherins were the unquestioned masters of potions though, but that didn't mean every single Slytherin hat to be good at it, did it?

"Your potion was absolutely fine," Lucius finally ended. "Janis' too"

"How would you know?"

"Didn't I tell you about how the potions teacher is my great uncle? Anyway, father taught me Potions since I can read. We own an apothecary, after all." Malfoy shrugged, while they climbed the stairs to the entrance hall. When Lucius turned for the next staircase, Rodolphus realized that he just followed Lucius' lead again, even though the boy had no clue where to go, too.

"I didn't think you were the type to skip classes," Rodolphus murmured to keep himself distracted from the pain and from the fact, that he was once again following Malfoy.

"I don't skip class. I am exempted."

"You know what I mean..."

Lucius shrugged and once again smiled his casual smile. "I won't get anything out of sitting there and brewing Aris' potion. It would have been a waste of time, really." He halted for a second, oriented himself, and then thoughtfully glanced at Rod. He smiled eventually and chose a direction. Rodolphus followed, hoping they weren't lost. He himself hadn't been in those higher floors very often, so far. "I could learn defense instead, for example..."

"We didn't have a single lesson in Defense against the Dark Arts, yet," Rodolphus groaned, but he didn't really try to change Malfoy's mind.

They had just turned into another corridor when Lucius suddenly halted. He turned around and looked straight at Rodolphus. The dark haired boy felt uncomfortable. "Yesterday, you knew, that idiot would play his prank," he noted. Rodolphus stared at him blankly. He remembered Malfoy's wrath last night and didn't really want to have that directed at him. "You didn't warn me about it." Lucius didn't seem to be aggressive, rather... disappointed. The Lestrange frowned.

"Why should I?" he mumbled, but under Lucius glare, he felt ashamed all of a sudden. "We hardly know each other..."

The blonde sighed. "We must stick together," he explained.

"Who is 'we'?" Rod asked nearly aggressive. "Us Slytherins? Us purebloods? Us old families?" 

Lucius cocked his head in quiet amusement. "All of it." He turned around, leading the way further down the corridor.

"Where are we?" Rodolphus asked when they came upon the huge portrait of an even bigger Lady.

"Not at the infirmary," Lucius grumbled. "Maybe we should ask someone..." But nobody was there and there surely were no signs to point them in the right direction.

"Shit!" Rod hissed, wrapping his hand in his robes as if that would help the pain. "If we can't find it soon, I won't ever be able to use it painlessly. That's my wand hand, Merlin!" he complained in a pained voice.

"Oh, don't exaggerate," Lucius groaned back at him, but there was something apologetic in his voice, "don't worry. Just pull yourself together for a little longer, alright? If you can't bear it anymore, I could try to...–"

"Don't even think about it! The most impressing thing, I've ever seen you do was an 'Incendio'. I doubt that would help."

Lucius looked as if Rod's words had wounded him, but he didn't offer his help again. "Did you memorize our way so far?" he asked after a while. Rodolphus didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "We'd sooner find somebody closer to the Great Hall, I think...–"

"SALAZAR!" Rodolphus screamed at him. "The next time I meet you in the owlery I'll throw you down that belfry window! I swear!"

Rodolphus meant it. Lucius didn't really seem to care, though, sporting his typical sneer. "You haven't read daddy's letter yet, have you?" Rodolphus just stared at him. 'Daddy's letter?' Did he wish for a bloody nose? "If not, we would at least have something to entertain ourselves with, should we never find our way back."

Rodolphus leaped at Lucius, the Moment he'd finished his sentence, but the Malfoy dodged with ease, maybe because he'd deliberately provoked Rodolphus and saw it coming. He made a casual step to the side. "No muggle methods. That's against the school...–"

He paused, and Rodolphus too froze, when suddenly the portrait of the big lady swung to the side, opening the way to a new corridor. That, however, wasn't what occupied their minds, but rather the group of students filing out of the new tunnel, clad in red and gold. They suddenly knew, where they were. They'd found the Gryffindor common room.

"Now, look at that!" one of the older students, with short dark stubbles on his head and the first shade of a beard, though he could hardly be any older than fifteen, bleated, "the Slytherin first years."

A girl laughed almost carefully, one of Shade-of-a-beard's friends laughed harder. "Standing there all dressed up and nowhere to go," he commented, revealing to rows of perfectly white teeth. "What are you two scheming, eh? This is no place for snakes. It's the lion's den." He smiled dangerously, though Rodolphus doubted he actually meant to harm them. He just seemed overly proud of his houses sigil.

"How splendid, that the lion's den hides behind a fat Lady", Lucius answered against Rodolphus better judgement. His first call would have been flight, or humbly standing aside, even if it was against his pride.

"You have a quick tongue, blondie," the girl said. "Sure, you're in the right house. Courage isn't really among your virtues." The question seemed justified, Rodolphus thought, who was close to doubting Lucius' sanity.

"Do you want to poach me?" Malfoy answered casually. But even he had to be intimidated, Rodolphus thought. Gryffindors and Slytherins weren't known to be the best of friends and even if Rodolphus didn't think, they meant to harm them, Malfoy was downright asking for it.

The girl chuckled. But then the Shade-of-a-beard-guy shoved her aside to angrily stare down at the blonde Slytherin himself.

"I'll warn you, kiddo. This is our territory. Go back to your cuddly dungeons."

"What do you think, you are? You know, you're no true lions. You don't need to mark nor defend your territory," Malfoy hissed snarkily.

The Gryffindor's patience finally snapped. He angrily shoved Lucius against the wall, but before he could actually hit the Slytherin, Toothy-smile intervened.

"Hey... let him be," he warned intently. Then he turned to the Malfoy. "What do you want?" he repeated the initial question. "I doubt you just want to visit a Gryffindor friend. Don't you have classes?"

Before Lucius could possibly ruin or deny the offered peace, Rodolphus answered, "we're searching for the infirmary." He shot Malfoy a warning glance.

"The infirmary? Well, you're at the absolutely wrong place, then."

"We figured..." Rodolphus didn't feel at ease at all. Shade-of-a-beard was still glowering over both of them.

Toothy-smile sighed, then pointed in a direction and gave directions. Judging from Malfoy impression, he didn't really trust the Gryffindor. Rodolphus memorized them anyway.

When the Gryffindor finished, Rodolphus thanked as politely as he could, trying to ignore Lucius' dark scowl. Well, it would have been nice, if that was all that happened, but when they passed, Shade-of-a-beard shoved heavily against Lucius' head, effectively – though Rodolphus doubted Shade-of-a-beard had actually planned to hit him that badly – squashing his head between his hand and the wall.

Lucius screamed furiously. He did look a little stunned though and he wouldn't be able to avoid the bruises, though, Rodolphus feared, but he wasn't really hurt.

"Freaking Troll", Lucius screamed at the Gryffindor's back. "Crumple-horned snorkack!" He obviously didn't think about it, because he hardly made the situation any better with it. Maybe it was his luck, that in his spontaneous rant no really offending more specific names came in his mind. There were some insults that served to make the entirety of house Gryffindor your enemy. Now, however, Toothy-smile just grabbed onto his friend and pushed him down the corridor.

"I'd advise your friend, to turn down his provocativeness", the girl warned Rod, "we don't really like to be bullied by first year snakes."

Rodolphus nodded. Lucius however, rubbing his temples, scowled at her before he bent forward as if he felt dizzy. He apparently wanted to say something, but didn't due to his dizziness, and maybe that was for the better. Rod held his shoulders tentatively, to prevent him from falling over.

"What in Merlin's name was that?", Rod ranted at him when they were alone. But even if he was mad with Malfoy, he didn't leave him, but supported him and helped him shaking off his giddiness.

"I won't let myself be laughed at by bloody lions", Malfoy drawled. "And you shouldn't either. You're a Slytherin!" He said with a fervor and passion that stood in stark contrast to his normal composure and casualness. "Fourth graders and still have nothing better to do than getting annoyed by first years. And then attack like lowlife muggles," he huffed, "that's their chivalry for you." He hesitated, then smiled, when he carefully straightened again. "I think it gets better. I wanted to get you to the infirmary. I think I might get myself checked, too. Where did they say, do we have to go?"

Rodolphus had the odd feeling, that Malfoy, over his anger, didn't hear a word of what the Gryffindor had said.

They still needed a while, before they finally found the infirmary. Malfoy had dragged his feet a little bit on their way here, and Rodolphus was sure, he still felt dizzy. It was his own fault, though. He himself still had to fight the pain in his throbbing hand.

Madam Pomfrey turned out to be a plump young woman with a pleasant smile, but a strict presence about her, that nearly reminded him of McGonagall. Rodolphus didn't remember seeing her in the Great Hall before, but he never really watched the staff table that intently. Now she stood directly in front of him, eying the children with indulgent, but strict eyes.

"What do we have here?", she asked but didn't really demand an answer, as her bright eyes already zoomed in on their injuries. Despite her plain youth, she didn't need a minute, to first focus on Malfoy's face, than Rodolphus' hand, that he still held title wrapped in his robes.

"Let me see it, boy", she demanded, first turning to Rodolphus whose pain was written all over his face. "What happened to you two?"

Rodolphus showed her the hand, hissing from the pain when the cloth scraped over his burns. The burned skin already stuck to his robes, making it only more painful to unwrap the hand. Pomfrey's cool fingers gave him relief, and he realized that her healing magic was already at work.

Malfoy answered, "potions. He touched the hot cauldron."

"And Professor Slughorn didn't have a painkilling potion?" the matron asked frowning.

"He might have forgotten. Or didn't think it was necessary. Rodolphus didn't really show the pain until we were already out of the classroom," Malfoy offered as an explanation.

Pomfrey's eyes were lurking on Rodolphus. "Too proud to show your pain? Well, that's what you got from it. Had you told Professor Slughorn about it, he'd surely helped you. Well, maybe your pride is worth it..." she sighed almost tiredly and tentatively touched his sore skin. Rodolphus gritted his teeth to not object. Instead, Malfoy spoke again.

"I don't think it was his pride. He'd just won our house his first 20 points. I think he was merely distracted...," he reckoned casually and Rodolphus felt the embarrassment rushing to his head, about how right Malfoy was. Apparently, however, this explanation seemed to appease Madam Pomfrey.

"Was that it? Well then, let me help you, Mr. Lestrange..." Rodolphus frowned, amazed how she knew his name. "Please follow me. You, Mr. Malfoy please sit down on one of the beds and stay here. It seems, you have a light concussion, and if you don't want to carry a red hand on your handsome face, for the next week, I'd recommend you to heed my advise." She walked through a door in a small room. Rod threw a last glance at Malfoy, who just turned a little redder again, before he followed the matron.

She gave him a few potions he had to drink. It didn't take long for a painkilling potion to take effect, then for the burned tissue to fall off, and the new skin to grow smooth and pink. After a few minutes, there was nothing left of his injury but a light shade of red, where the skin was newer and a little thinner still.

"This should be enough," Pomfrey observed satisfied, "I think, you should still remain here until the next lesson begins. We don't want you getting in another find straight away," she warned. She glanced meaningfully at Lucius in the other room. "Well let's take care of your friend."

For a moment, Rodolphus wanted to object, that he hadn't yet decided, whether or not he was friends with Malfoy, whether or not he even liked him, and that it was only him, who had been involved in the argument. Instead, he just followed quietly.

Malfoy had actually spent the time, skipping through his Defense against the Dark Arts book. He intensely squinted at it, obviously having trouble reading the letters, until Madam Pomfrey took the book from his hands.

"You have a concussion. Reading will only make you feel sick." Lucius didn't object. Instead, he silently endured the procedure, while Rodolphus slit into the chair next to him, finally opening the letter.

Over the rustling parchment, he observed the matron's work. His father worked in the same area. Well, she was the matron at the Hogwarts infirmary, he was a healer-in-charge in St. Mungo's. But still, when it came down to it, Rodolphus thought, they were both healers. She was so different from him, though. They were both strict and demanding, but the Hogwarts matron emitted warmth, commitment and concern for her patients so unlike his father. He knew that his father had chosen his job because it was expected. The Lestranges always had high positions in St. Mungo's. There was a time when it was common for the director of St. Mungo's to be a Lestrange. That was, however, before the Mudbloods and halfbloods had stolen their right to that position, condemning his family to serve under them as common healers. His father had at least made it all the way to the position of healer-in-charge of one of the many different departments. He wondered why Pomfrey had chosen to heal people for a living. Frowning he turned to his letter.

" _Rodolphus,_

 _I've already wondered when I'd hear from you. Of course I've already corresponded with Mr. Malfoy, and he'd informed me about your sorting into Slytherin. I congratulate you. You've overcome the first hurdle, even though I'm concerned to read that the hat wasn't sure. I do hope, you know to follow the teachings of your one true house, as can be expected from the heir to our family. I'm glad you like Slytherin._

 _It's always disappointing to here how many halfbloods flood into Slytherin every year – even more disappointing how many Muggles gather at Hogwarts these days, with magic they stole from our ancestors. I hope intently that you keep away from that pack. In fact, I think you'd do good to socialize with the young Malfoy. I don't mean to ever again have to read about your doubts about the boy and how you apparently can't stand him. These connections from your early school days are important and the impression you leave in Hogwarts can be essential for your future live. I raised you to know that. It's not important what you think of him, the Malfoy family is an old house, like ours, and I couldn't wish for better company for my sons. I'm also glad to hear you already met the Black sisters. You know, that we share a long and fruitful relationship with the Black family. I also expect you to bond with young Sirius when he enters Hogwarts. However, that still lies in the not so distant future. I can't emphasize it strongly enough, how important it is, that you keep up our family's image in school and bond with these families. Ms. Rowle is a part of that as well, of whom you write you think her an 'annoying doe'. I won't have any more of those insults or allegations or slight remarks. Do you hear me? Mr. Selwyn most surprisingly made it to Ravenclaw. He's only from a sub-branch, but Name and Blood are still right. That aside, I heard there is an Ollivander in your year. You know how useful it can be to have a connection to this family. The Ollivanders are, more so than many others, traditionally rooted in our society. You know what I demand from you... Stay away from the Weasleys, Abbotts, Longbottoms, Macmillans and the muggle rabble and don't get too involved or influenced by your halfblood housemates. Don't let them dissuade you from your path..._

 _I have the utmost trust in you and your capability to judge right from wrong._

 _Know, however, that I am proud to finally know my elder son in Slytherin under Professor Slughorn's watchful eye. You surely remember he was my potions teacher too? I'm sure even our Lord will be pleased to hear the news. After all, it's you I place my hopes in that our family will stand strongly at his sides for future generations to come._

 _Behave and learn diligently,_

 _your father."_

Rodolphus lowered the letter into his lap. Words of love and affection were nearly vacant in all of his father's letters, and if ever, they were found in formal phrases. Still, he felt disappointed. He couldn't even place his disappointment. His father's letters were almost nicer than he was himself.

Only now did he realize that Malfoy was surveying him expectantly. Madam Pomfrey was in her office, he reckoned. She'd put some sort of ointment on Malfoy's face to cool the swelling that made his skin shine unnaturally.

"What did he write?" Malfoy asked eventually.

"What do you care? It's none of your business anyway," he rumbled almost hostile.

Lucius curiosity didn't vanish, however, but a shadow of disappointment flashed over his face. "Come on... Most likely, he writes the same stuff my father writes, right? 'Welcome to Slytherin, nothing else was expected. We're proud of you, son. Stay away from the Muggles. Mother is looking forward to your visit at Christmas'," summarized Malfoy.

Rodolphus nodded sighing. There was a small mistake in Malfoy's assumptions, though, and he was puzzled that the Malfoy didn't know about it. Still, he was right, for the most part. "Mother is dead, but right. More or less," he mumbled. Then he examined the beginning of his father's letter. "You didn't tell your father, that the hat took a while to sort me into Slytherin?" he asked frowning without looking at the other boy. He was almost ashamed to ask.

"Why should I?" Malfoy asked amused. "I mean, sure, I told him about my housemates, but who care about how long the hat had taken to sort you?"

Rodolphus looked up startled. He had been sure, Lucius, who had only taken two seconds, of which three were needed to put the hat on alone, would always ridicule the 'shaky candidate' Rodolphus.

"What?" Malfoy laughed surprised. "You've actually thought I'd tell everybody? Did you tell your father so he wouldn't have to hear it from mine, or what?" With a lightning-fast motion, he'd picked the letter from Rod's fingers and before Rod could get it back, he'd already jumped off his bed and brought enough space between the two that Rod couldn't hope to get it back through force. The blueish grey eyes quickly flew over the lines. He kept a straight face while reading, but when he threw the letter back to Rodolphus, he looked more sincere.

"Lovely man, your father," he commented and slit passed Rodolphus back to his bed. Maybe he still felt dizzy, when moving.

"Don't say that! Don't talk about him that way!" Rodolphus defended him and sank back in his chair, scowling.

"Forgive me," Malfoy apologized formally and examined him out of the corner of his eyes.

"What?" Rodolphus asked.

"Your father is even deeper in all of this old family stuff than mine," he commented thoughtfully, "I mean, not that I see that differently, but...," he hesitated and straightened a little bit, "don't show your ideals outside of the common room, okay?" It sounded suspiciously like a warning. Rodolphus cocked his eyebrows at him. Until now, he hadn't exactly behaved conspicuous as far as he could tell, unlike Lucius who was already hated by half of his halfblood housemates. Still, Malfoy seemed worried about him. "Professor Dumbledore is a strong muggle friend," he explained shrugging, "it wouldn't be clever to make him aware of what we think, as long as we go to school." Rodolphus nodded understandingly. But before he could even answer, Lucius haughty, self-confident smile flashed again. Rodolphus scowled. Every time, Malfoy was grinning that way, he wanted to hit him in his face.

"So you don't like me?" Lucius asked eventually, a mist of disappointment in his voice, but still sporting his casual sneer.

"Don't say you're surprised," Rod shot back, still pulling himself together, not to hit that smug smile off his face.

Lucius took a while to answer. "Well, not really," he admitted maybe to his own astonishment. "I just thought, we could get along rather nicely during the ceremony...," he added pensively.

"Even back then you were an arrogant prick", Rodolphus rumbled. He thought he saw Lucius wince ever so slightly. "But afterwards it only got worse. You behave, as if the whole school is yours and you appear to think, everyone was just there for your amusement. And just now, with the Gryffindors, that was absolutely unnecessary!"

Lucius laughed quietly. "I guess I might have gone a bit too far," he admitted, "I'm sorry... but I won't let myself get pushed around by those blockheads... And we were on our way to the infirmary, anyway." He got serious again. "But your father is right. We should try to get along. Seriously, you and Janis, are the only real Slytherins in our dormitory," he nearly groaned, "so we should get along." His eyes narrowed on him. "Unless you really hate my guts that badly...," he added grumbling.

"Janis is a halfblood, isn't he?" Rodolphus pressed, ignoring Lucius implied question. "You sure, he's a _true_ Slytherin?"

There it was again. Lucius' smug sneer. "Whatever? Janis has a bright head. If he uses that, he can get far in this world. Halfblood or no. I can't hang around trolls like Aris my whole live, only because they have the right blood," he moaned defiantly. "But right, your father would see that differently," something flashed in the Slytherin's icy grey eyes.

Rodolphus stared at him. "My father wouldn't approve," he agreed. His father would probably punish him for sporting such a traitorous thought alone. "You don't really think, yours might see this differently?" He wouldn't believe it. Abraxas Malfoy might not be as conservative as Stephanus Lestrange, but he couldn't possibly agree with his son on this matter.

"Of course not," Malfoy grinned, "but I don't have to rub it in his face. As long as I don't plan to marry a halfblood – and believe me, that's about the furthest thing from my mind – he hardly has any reason to complain. After all, I only ever do, what's good for the family. Aris Mason is a troll. A pureblood from an unknown family. He has just about as much in his brain as a potholder and an everyday life house elf would be more useful. He'll, however, one day surely be a decent beater for our Quidditch team, but hardly good enough, to fly professionally after school. I won't have to trouble myself about him, he's already following me around," Malfoy explained, before his typical sneer flashed again, "Janis, on the other side, has everything you need to get a decent job and be a valuable ally." Malfoy put a pillow behind his back to sit more comfortably. "I know your father tells you to keep away from everything that's not pure since at least three generations. Mine says the same... But we can't just distance ourselves from halfbloods completely, there are too few purebloods around to live completely secluded. It's hard enough to keep the muggleborn away." He emphasized the word 'muggleborn' as if to show him not to use the not so nice version. "We need a few talented people at or side, even if we have to draw on Halfbloods. I'd prefer someone like Janis to have my back over Aris any day."

Oddly enough, Rodolphus had to admit that Malfoy was right. Even in his father's letters, he didn't write not to socialize with halfbloods but not to let himself be manipulated by them. He thoughtfully looked down at the letter.

"You know I'm right," Lucius said knowingly and nodded with a satisfied look. "So, what is it? Do we hold together, or can you really not stand me?"

"I don't plan to just follow you around like a lap dog," Rodolphus explained shrugging. The blonde chuckled.

"I understand. That's the problem," he nodded, "we are Slytherins, we can't just bustle around each other like a headless horde of Hufflepuffs. We need someone at the top of the hierarchy and most obviously, it doesn't work when a Lestrange and a Malfoy both are too stubborn to yield to the other."

He didn't seem to be mad at Rod, but with that, the decision seemed to be final. They won't be friends, at least Rodolphus wouldn't follow Lucius around like Aris and Janis did.

"So you and Tarquin," Malfoy assessed amused. Rod's countenance darkened. "He likes you well enough. Better than me, anyway," the blonde shrugged, "and thank Merlin for that. I couldn't bear two trolls following me around. That odd version of a Weasley," he exclaimed obviously thinking about Tarquin's strong outer resemblance with the Weasely family, that, now that Lucius mentioned it, was astonishing.

"I don't think I could bear with Tarquin in the long run either. Just another halfblood. Above all, one that wouldn't really be useful at all." Lucius nodded agreement.

"Your father would be disappointed," he warned. "So who else? Do you want to join the girl's club? Or play the lone wolf?"

Rodolphus shrugged. "Father does wish for me to bond with Rowle and Yaxley, anyway."

Lucius chuckled quietly. "I think, my head's fine. This ointment does wonders. What's in the afternoon?"

"Defense"

"Oh? I'm looking forward to that..." Malfoy watched Rodolphus tucking the letter in his bag, frowning suddenly.

"What is it?" Rodolphus asked when he became aware of it.

"I'm just thinking," he seemed to be unsure, whether to ask him or not. Then, however, he came to a decision. "Who was it your father meant?" he asked. "At the end of his letter. 'Our Lord'?"

Rodolphus froze. He felt all the color draining from his face. He would be even paler than Malfoy was naturally, if that was even possible. Of course, he had read that part as well. And he couldn't really answer that question. Partly because he didn't know half of what was actually going on, partly because he just couldn't, wasn't allowed to and would bring his family in potential danger. He anxiously watched Lucius, unable to answer. It was the first time when he was actually relieved, to see that typical smile on his face.

"Don't tell me, if you don't want to," the blonde said evenly, "but we're no friends, so I might use it against you," he warned, though it was impossible to say, whether he meant it. "We should hurry." He looked at his pocket watch.

 **A/N: I apologize it was so long... I didn't want to split it though... Especially since – despite it's length – it's not that important or exciting so make it worth waiting to more weaks for the story to move on. I hope it wasn't too long...**

 **Anyway... As you learned, Horace Slughorn, in this story, is Lucius great uncle. Meaning Lucius' Mother is a Slughorn and daughter of Horace elder brother Vibius, who however died 5 years after Lucius birth. Lucius Mother is still alive though. Aside from Slughorn though, there's no more family from his mothers side. In this story though, he father Abraxas has a younger brother Brutus, who's married to a witch of a lower pureblood family and has two daughters.**

 **Rodolphus mother on the other hand is a Greengrass, and by coincidence great aunt to the not yet born Astoria and Daphne Greengrass. However Rodolphus mother died shortly after Rabastans birth, when Rodolphus was around 4 years old. Aside from Esther Greengrasses brother Hyperion and his son Ableros (who will be the father of Astoria and Daphne) there are no other known or important family members of the Rodolphus. His father Stephanus Lestrange was a single child.**

 **So now, here are the girls of their year and house:**

 **Diana Walker-Frei (who is a Pureblood of German descent)**

 **Sabine Gallerhart (who is a halfblood)**

 **Emma Rowle (who is a pureblood and member of the sacred 28. She's Cousin to the later death eater Rowle, who's a few years older than her)**

 **Ariadne Yaxley (who is also pureblood and member of the sacred 28. She's the Sister of Jaremy Yaxley, who's four years older than her and currently in fifth grade in Slytherin)**

 **Ann Carsten (who is a halfblood)**

 **Next weak we'll get to know some of the people from their year from the other houses.**


	4. Mudblood'

**A/N: I'm terribly sorry for the delay. Exam phase (do you say that?) is over now. I still have to write to rather lengthy papers, so I don't know whether the next chapter will come in time. I do however hope so.**

 **Thanks, Scarlet Hibiscus, for the pointer... I absolutely missed that.**

 **And thank you very much for your review, Anon. I'm sorry for the typos, but I hope you'll stick to the story (and I hope I'll get better with time – or maybe find a Beta). I decided for this story (also based on the canon) that Lucius would be more of a self-centered, narcissistic materialist, than an actual idealist (pureblode supremecy). I had more freedom to shape Rodolphus the way I liked him. I actually wanted to make him sympathetic, while I also didn't want to excuse what he did (or will do). I really hope I can succeed, but while he will suffer, and maybe his later crimes come as a result oh his own suffering, they don't excuse his actions.**

 **But I think instead of explaining to much in the Author's Note (though I love answering Reviews and adding some thoughts to my characters that won't necessarily be mentioned in the story) I should really stop now. Have fun with the next chapter! And yeah... it's rather long again.**

 **"Mudblood"**

 **Midst of September 1966**

"Concentrate!" warned the teacher with the tight knotted, dark bun. Professor McGonagall flourished her wand, lips pressed into a tight line, transfiguring the cup in front of her. Then she again started her tour around the class. She looked over Abbott's shoulders. "You don't need to clutch your wand like a broomstick", she explained to the Hufflepuff.

Rodolphus made a weird noise somewhere between a giggle and a yawn, before focussing on his own cup again. It was their second week at Hogwarts and their third lesson in transfiguration – and he'd already known after the very first lesson that this subject was more difficult than the other. He was good in potions, already knew some of the handy little tricks they learned in charms from his dad's teachings, and it turned out he was surprisingly good in herbology. While he wasn't a particularly good flyer, it was just like walking. He wasn't very fast with his feet either, so he reckoned he just wasn't athletic enough to actually get onto the Quidditch team but he knew the technique. However, he wasn't quite as good in astronomy and transfiguration. Astronomy maybe mostly because he didn't really have a connection to the stars – but transfiguration was just complicated.

His formerly green and blue spotted cup was now at least looking like a vase. It should turn into a teapot, though. He'd hexed the handle away without putting much thought into it, only to realize that a teapot needed a handle just as much as a cup. And he didn't quite know how to get the handle back.

He glanced around. He was not the worst but surely not the best either. Diana Walker-Frei and Janis Johanson from Slytherin were almost finished. However, most of the students seemed rather clueless. A third of the class hadn't managed to transfigure the initial cup at all or even worse, turned it into something completely differently. Even Malfoy, who hadn't had any problems in any of the subjects so far, was fighting with the task. His grey eyes repeatedly turned to Janis nearly finished work, looking rather jealous. Still, his 'teapot' looked closer to an actual teapot than Rodolphus'.

"I could be willing", McGonagall started, "to give five points to the first three students, who present me with a complete teapot."

One of the Hufflepuffs in the father back with freckles all over his face suddenly jumped from his seat waving his teapot, as if he'd only waited for something like that.

"I'm finished", proclaimed Martinius Ivory. He got his five points then, as did Janis, who was the next to finish his work.

Displeased, Lestrange focused on his own pot again. He wouldn't get any points for his house, that much was clear, but maybe he could at least figure out how to get the handle back before the class was over.

The red haired Slytherin next to him impatiently moved his cup from one side to the other. But regardless of how much Tarquin moved his cup through the classroom it didn't look any different from before. Tarquin was obviously frustrated. He tapped the tip of his wand against the porcelain, making it suddenly jump over the table and throw itself and Rodolphus' cup to the ground.

Diana's exclamation that she had finished was drowned by the sound of the two shattering cups. Aris laughed. Rodolphus cursed. He'd spent so much energy on his cup and had just managed to rebuild the handle, and now it was broken. He could always undo the damage with a 'Repairo', but still... he scowled at Tarquin.

McGonagall neared and swiftly repaired the cups. Then she gave five points to Slytherin for Diana's work, only to take 10 away for Tarquin's failure. The whole Slytherin bunch scowled at Tarquin.

When the bell rang, the Hufflepuffs had five more house points, while the Slytherins with Janis' and Diana's five each and Tarquins loss of 10 finished where they'd started. Rod's pot was oddly shaped, Malfoy and some others had finished their work, and Tarquin was still not any closer to transfiguring his cup.

"Well, what was there to expect," the Malfoy grumbled on his way out, scowling at his red haired housemate. Tarquin suddenly overreacted, grabbing his cup and throwing it at the back of Malfoy's head, fortunately only brushing the latter. Bewildered, Rodolphus stared at the shattered pot. Malfoy whirled around and had Janis not grabbed him Rodolphus was sure he would have attacked with bared teeth. Following a sudden intuition, Rodolphus grabbed onto Tarquin's shoulder.

"Mr. McTavish, Mr. Malfoy", growled McGonagall from behind them. "What do you think, you're doing to behave like that in my classroom. Mr. Malfoy, you will leave immediately!" Malfoy's hateful gaze first brushed Rodolphus, then focused on Tarquin before he got dragged out by Janis. They could hear the mocking laugh of Logan Abbott outside but then the door fell shut from a wink of the professor's wand. McGonagall turned to them.

"Mr. McTavish, twenty more points from Slytherin. How dare you attack another student?" she indignantly shook her head. "Should I ever see something like that again, this will have more severe consequences."

"He provoked me!" Tarquin argued with gritted teeth. McGonagall frowned a moment.

"Good Lord...," she murmured. "This term hasn't even really started yet and you already feel such hate towards your fellow students?"

Rodolphus felt uncomfortable. He didn't want to be here. Actually, he had planned to get something to eat before the flying lesson would start. He didn't really have any interest in this conflict between Malfoy and Tarquin. He didn't want to take sides. After all, he reckoned, Tarquin was just as responsible as was Malfoy.

"...always thinks he's better than us normal people, just because he's a Malfoy," Tarquin's voice brought him back to the present. "Just because he's pureblood and his father has money to burn." McGonagalls gaze lingered on Rodolphus for a moment.

"I understand," she interrupted, "I will inform your head teacher about..."

"But Slughorn is his uncle," Tarquin whined, "or great uncle, something like that..."

McGonagall's eyebrows formed a displeased frown. " _Professor_ Slughorn," she corrected, "is an experienced and competent teacher. I am sure he'll be able to differ between his duties to his job and to his family. After all, it also is in the interest of young Mr. Malfoy to settle this dispute.

What do you think about it, Mr. Lestrange?" Suddenly she addressed him.

For a moment he was startled. Uncertain what to say, he looked at Tarquin. Malfoy was rather obnoxious, he guessed, but Tarquin always overreacted and made it even worse with his stupid pranks. Tarquin was just as much to blame for all of this. Aside from that, Tarquin was a halfblood and Rodolphus couldn't really side with the halfblood, could he?

"Malfoy...," he started murmuring, "Malfoy has the Slytherins at his back," he tried to evade the actual question. That was maybe the main reason Tarquin hated him so much. At the beginning, Malfoy was just arrogant and a little too cocky, but he hadn't really done anything so far. Tarquin had chosen him as the victim of his pranks because he didn't like him. Malfoy, however, was too proud and too confident to just play the victim so he answered with snide remarks and ridiculing comments. And that would have been just fine and made for a normal everyday rivalry between students if Malfoy weren't Malfoy and – without even actively doing anything – had all of Slytherin at his back. So even though he doubted Malfoy had actually demanded his friends to bully or hate Tarquin, they just followed his lead. Thus he was left alone with no friends and nobody who really cared for him. Rodolphus understood what had made Tarquin attack Malfoy. He felt as if the other boy was looking down on him too, even though he knew that this wasn't specifically about him, but just the way Malfoy generally carried himself. So he could relate to Tarquin's situation.

Professor McGonagall sighed audibly. "I'll talk to Professor Slughorn. It seems as if this really is a problem you should try to solve within your house. As I said, I'll have an eye on Mr. Malfoy but still, Mr. McTavish, should I hear of another incident like this, I'll personally make sure you won't have a single free weekend until Christmas."

Tarquin nodded and McGonagall dismissed them into their shortened lunch break.

Outside they were greeted by Ann Carsten, a girl with brown corkscrew locks. Slytherin and halfblood like Tarquin. Rodolphus always felt annoyed by her and her unpleasant habit of making fun of others to fuel her own lacking confidence. Rodolphus felt wrong in this company of halfbloods anyway, so he excused himself.

Upset and agitated due to his lost lunch break, he made his way to the Hogwarts grounds. Flying lessons... He felt quite excited like always but flying on an empty stomach was only half the fun.

He rashly ran into someone's back. The other boy was clad in the red and gold of Gryffindor and took a step forward to steady himself, before angrily turning around to face the Lestrange. He had bright green eyes and a shock of darkish brown, wild hair.

"Careful, Lestrange," he groaned, when he recognized the Slytherin. "Why in such a hurry? Afraid we might fly away without you?" joked the boy. Someone else laughed. It wasn't really meant spitefully, he knew, but Rodolphus didn't really care if it was. He was too hungry and too upset and still a little startled from the collision to think about what he was doing. A sudden wave of disgust came over him as he realized that the mudblood had just made fun of him. As if they were equal, as if he maybe even stood above him.

"Shut up, Mudblood! And get out of my way!" Rodolphus demanded without thinking about it. In his parent's house, 'Mudblood' was just a word. Sure it was meant as an insult but Mudbloods were Mudbloods, that was just a fact. That was just the word they used at home. He used it regularly, just like his brother. Nobody ever said 'muggleborn' in his home.

Jonathan Fletcher frowned at him. Sure, Rodolphus thought still shocked he had actually used that word at Hogwarts, Fletcher was a Mudblood and only knew about this world for a few weeks. He probably never heard that word before. It did sound offending but he wouldn't know what it meant. His two friends behind his back, however, knew very well. Suddenly Rod found himself in the wet grass on the ground. Fabian and Gideon Prewett were no Mudbloods and they knew exactly what he'd just said. Now they flanked their Mudblood friend on both sides, staring down on Rodolphus.

"What did you just say", one of them – Merlin alone knew which one – hissed. Rodolphus didn't answer but tried to get up again. He was furious that they dared to attack him like that. Suddenly, there was the tip of a wand at his ribs. Anxious, but most of all wroth, he looked up at them. But what should he do? Both of the twins had their wands out. Plus, physically he was smaller and weaker than either of them.

"You think you are better than anyone else, right, Lestrange?" one of them sneered. "Thanks to punks like yourself, one nowadays has to feel ashamed to be pureblood."

The other twin pointed his wand at the ground next to Rod. Suddenly earth and grass welled up and splashed in his face and over his robes. More on reflex than on purpose he closed his eyes and turned his face away; still, he couldn't prevent the dirt getting between his lips and in his nostrils.

When the charm ebbed away, he was boiling with hot fury but still couldn't come up with a way to defend himself. The Mudblood Fletcher furrowed his brows and eventually asked one of the twins, "What's going on?" Stupid clueless Mudblood didn't know anything! He didn't care how deeply he just lost himself in his father's ideology. He'd never felt so furious. Furious that he, a pureblood from the honorable house of Lestrange, heir to one of the oldest families and a Slytherin, would lie in the dirt in front of a lowlife Mudblood, in front of those infamous blood traitors and above all – Gryffindors. He was even more irate with himself that he couldn't muster the courage to fight back, and that his head was empty aside from insults so that he couldn't come up with a way to defend his pride.

"Our dear Mr. Lestrange...", one of the twins spat.

"... thinks, he's better than everyone else, just because his family has engaged in incestuous relationships for centuries," finished the other. And that was it. Rodolphus furiously pushed away from the ground and jumped at the twin who had just offended his family. Adrenaline and wrath rushed through his veins, but even these two things couldn't make him physically superior to them. Fletcher and the twin he was just about to attack grabbed his shoulders and threw him head first back into the dirt.

"Can't take the truth?" one of them grumbled.

Rodolphus spat a bit of earth and turned back to the Gryffindors.

"You can't do anything to me, you damned blood traitors!" he hissed and got another fistful of mud in the face for that. "Fraternizing with dirty Mudbloods instead of holding to your own." He tried to sneer, which was rather difficult when Fletcher pushed him back to the ground with his foot. "Traitors like you are worse than the Muggle vermin!" he screamed his father's words.

"Who is it we have betrayed?" one of the Prewetts laughed.

They laughed at him. For a moment, he was glad he was facing the dirt so they couldn't see how close he was to tears.

"You shouldn't just run around parroting daddy's stupidity," one of the twins chastised.

"Everyone knows your father is a racist asshole and a criminal on top of that," the other added. Fletcher kept silent. Obviously, the stupid Mudblood didn't know enough about their world to add anything to that. Rodolphus tried not to say anything either. They'd see sooner or later. His father would kill them, he knew. They'd see what they got for humiliating him. He gritted his teeth to keep from telling them in straight in their faces.

"What...? How dare you!", Malfoy's voice rumbled in their direction. When he turned his head, Rodolphus could see the blonde approach with a face white from fury, wand raised. Aris and Janis were at his back, holding their wands as well.

The Prewetts seemed startled, then impressed before uncertainly looking at each other. Surely the hat wouldn't have placed them into Gryffindor couldn't they rival a few craven Slytherins. To back down now would be against their Gryffindor pride. At least Rodolphus thought that this was what they were thinking because they didn't back away.

"Malfoy," groaned one of the Prewetts and pointed his wand at Malfoy. "Want a thrashing, too?"

Malfoy didn't attack. He stopped two steps away from Rodolphus and the others. For a moment, his gaze drifted to the Lestrange.

"Don't let yourself get pushed around by those primitives," demanded the Malfoy boy with an angry scowl on his face.

"Primitives, Malfoy?" Fletcher repeated with a voice dark from ire.

"Exactly, Fletcher," Malfoy sneered and pointed his wand at him. "What is this? A new Gryffindorish pastime, to team up three against one?"

"He called him 'Mudblood'!" one of the Prewett's argued.

"Poor Fletcher," he hissed, "he won't get far in this world, if he always needs two pureblood watchdogs to defend him, every time, someone jokes about his heritage."

"Watchdogs? You're one to talk. Running around with your army of craven Slytherins at your back."

Malfoy stared at him intently, then flashed his typical smile. Like a snake before the attack, Rodolphus thought absently.

"Well, firstly, I'm not attacking fellow students," he sneered, "and secondly, I don't claim to be overly courageous or chivalrous."

"Right," Fletcher spat, "you Slytherins don't care for courage. Cowards, all of you, that much I've learned. The house of the murderers and criminals."

Malfoy's gaze darkened. "Right," he hissed dangerously low, "and you, in particular, should be more careful. A well-intended advise from one Hogwarts student to another." He turned to Rodolphus. "Oh, stand up already and get over here!"

Rodolphus stood up and stumbled to Malfoy. Looking back at the Gryffindor, he noticed the way they were scowling at Malfoy. Maybe they now thought Malfoy was the root of everything evil in their Slytherin year, not the Lestrange.

Suddenly, all of the Slytherins put away their wands. Within a split second they raised their arms in silent surrender and put up a shocked face. The Gryffindors exchanged a startled look. And just seconds too late, they understood their scheme.

"What's going on here?" a tall man who was already well past his best years in old Quidditch attire demanded to know. Shocked, the Gryffindors whirled around, wands still in hands. The flying teacher's gaze turned from the Gryffindors to the Slytherins back to the Gryffindors, lastly to Rodolphus' dirty face and uniform.

"What do you think you're doing?", he demanded again, though he had apparently already come to a conclusion.

"A misunderstanding, I fear," Malfoy said somberly, letting his hands fall. "I found Rodolphus at the ground, and when I wanted to help him to his feet, Fletcher and the twins came." His eyes flashed in the Gryffindor's direction, an expression of confusion and wonder on his face. Then he drew his wand and cast a cleaning charm over Rodolphus as if he'd been waiting to do this for quite a while already.

The Gryffindors blinked startled. Most likely the expected Malfoy to rat them out. They weren't exactly completely out of trouble but had he told how the Prewetts and Fletcher had treated Rodolphus, it would have been worse. He'd lured them into a trap, had the stage prepared to make them look like the bad guys, and now he was just giving it away. What was he playing at?

For a moment, they seemed inclined to just tell what had really happened, just to not follow his plan. But when the teacher said, "well I suppose, that's the best explanation I'm going to get", they didn't add anything. "Let's see. Thirty Points from Gryffindor for threatening to use your wands against fellow students. Since you apparently don't want to give me a better reason why you did it," he paused shortly waiting for a late explanation, but none came. Then he turned to Rodolphus. "Mr. Lestrange, are you okay? Any injuries?"

"No, sir," he answered after mentally assessing his physical state.

"Well then," in the meantime, the other students had arrived, "I think we can start with the classes. Would you be so kind to get the brooms, Mr. Lestrange? Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Mason and Mr. Johanson, would you please help him?"

When the four of them entered the barn where the brooms were stored, Malfoy scowled at him. Suddenly, Malfoy jerked Rodolphus back into the barn and pushed the smaller boy against a wall. Rodolphus let go of the brooms he was holding.

"Really?" Malfoy snarled at him. "Only two weeks, and you already have to scream 'Mudblood' through the castle?"

"Why do you care?" Rodolphus hissed back. If anyone thought he was a racist, that surely wasn't Malfoy's problem. Anyway, everyone already knew about his ideologies, so what was it worth to pretend. He was a Lestrange, everyone expected him to behave that way. Was that what McGonagall was thinking when she looked at him in this odd way, back in the transfiguration classroom? Since he was, who he was, surely she expected him to side with the Malfoy over the halfblood. He felt furious at her for judging him so easily. She was right – all of them were, but he was still his own person, wasn't he?

Malfoy seemed to be irritated by his question. For a moment he seemed to search for a response, but of course, there was none. There was no logical reason, why he should care, about how Rodolphus was perceived. "You idiot," he finally groaned, "I only want to help you. Or do you want to make your life more difficult than it has to be?"

"What in Merlin's name are you talking about?" He tried to push Malfoy away.

"You don't get it... Behave, and you'll find many friends here, many connections, and people that will help you and be useful to you at some time. To you... not to your father. Be an asshole and you'll soil every chance for a friendship you can get... with your peers, your teachers, with Dumbledore, even with the Slytherins, because you don't want to submit to anyone, and nobody wants to follow someone, who...," his voice trailed off.

"Who... what?" Rodolphus snapped, but Malfoy didn't really seem willing to answer.

After a while, he bit his lip and said shrugging: "Who doesn't know what he wants... Oh, whatever... But there's a reason why you still don't have any friends and the only one who prefers following you over following me isn't good enough for you, because your father wouldn't approve of him."

Rodolphus struggled for words for a moment. They only were at the school for about two weeks. It wasn't exactly abnormal that he didn't have any friends yet. He'd never bonded easily. But to hear it straight from Malfoy still hurt. Rod didn't need friends, anyway. He went his own way that was predetermined for him, why should he get involved with other people, who might just dissuade him from his path?

"Even if...," he murmured.

Malfoy sighed. "When you finish school without friends, all alone with yourself, you won't have any choice but to do what your father wants from you. Because you won't have anyone who'll give you the possibility to start something new. I told you, I'm searching for friends and connections, who have the potential to strengthen my family... But, most of all, they'll strengthen me. I'll have to take over my father's connections second hand – but I'll rather trust those I chose myself."

Rodolphus stared at his peer. What he just said was... He couldn't mean that!

"You really want to tell me you plan to rebel against against your father?" he whispered with a bit of admiration in his voice. Another thought occurred to him. "You... I mean, you do approve of the pureblood ideology, right? Mudbloods are lower, Blood traitors are a disgrace. Halfbreeds are..." It was impossible... Abraxas Malfoy was no Death Eater, as far as he knew, but he was an integral part of the pureblood community. There was no way... The Malfoys were one of the most ancient, richest and most influential families in England. There was no other family, he could think of that had managed to survive the upsurge of halfblood and mudblood families and individuals as well as the Malfoy family. His family – Even the Lestrange's treasures were nothing compared to the Malfoy's. It was simply impossible, that they were... Blood traitors.

Malfoy's typical sneer crawl over his face, but the other boy quickly turned serene again.

"Of course, I believe in it. But I won't miss any advantages I could get, just to tell every idiot on this planet where my allegiances truly lie. If telling someone you're a pureblood supremest makes them distrust you, don't tell them. About my father... no, I don't plan to rebel against him. Why should I? We're mostly on the same page as far as our opinions, ideologies and ambitions are concerned. Honestly, most of what I just told you, my father taught me before." Rodophus scrutinized him for the first time. Of course... he as well was just an eleven-year-old boy. In the end, Malfoy might seem bright and clever and incredibly mature but he was just following his father's lectures, too. The Lestrange sneered.

"So what? You do everything Daddy says, but when I do the same, you want to stop me?" he scoffed derisively. Malfoy let him go, his grey eyes boring in Rod's dark ones.

"Well, I'm not afraid of my father. I have no problem with following his path. And the hat didn't hesitate before it sent me to Slytherin."

Rodolphus blushed. So that was where he was coming from.

"You said it didn't matter," he tried to defend himself.

"And it doesn't. Not for me, and for nobody else – it certainly shouldn't for your father. Nobody's born a Slytherin. You only turn into one when the hat says so. You're just as much Slytherin as anybody else. But still... it says something about you."

Rodolphus was starting to get a headache. Surely their teacher would be getting impatient soon, he thought absently.

"For most of the students, the hat took a while. Even if you didn't realize it, because your decision seemed to be rather long to you, there were many students, where it took even longer. Especially for halfbloods and muggleborn." Rodolphus hated the sneer on Malfoy's face. Did he just compare him to mudbloods? "I've read a lot about the hat prior to coming to Hogwarts. And my father told me stories. I think the truth is that the hat doesn't decide anything. We choose where we want to go to. He just guides us in our decision. He searches for our strengths and weaknesses, gives us advises and then sends us to wherever we want to go. I've never heard of the hat sending a student somewhere he doesn't want to be. Regardless of whether or not we regret our decision afterwards."

Slowly, Rodolphus began to understand what Malfoy meant.

"I wasn't sure...," he murmured realisation.

"Most of the student just wait for what's coming for them. Many don't even know about the hat or the houses. Some students, when they first come to Hogwarts don't know whether they really belong here. They fear they'll fail whatever test they have to undergo and will be sent home. So it's only natural that they just take the first house the hat suggests, happy they get a house at all. Others hear stories about the houses and feel that they strongly belong in one, or wouldn't like to go in another. And some just want to follow their friends they met at platform 9 ¾ or on the journey. But for us purebloods..."

"We know the houses," Rodolphus cut in, "we know about their virtues and what they stand for. We know where our ancestors and parents went to."

"Exactly. A Malfoy like myself, who honors his parents and agrees with them in most departments, who not only wants to make them proud but who actually actively wants to follow in their footsteps, who upholds most of his family's virtues and those of House Slytherin, will sit in that chair, fairly sure, he belongs to nowhere but Slytherin. The hat doesn't need to ask me what I want or tell me what my strengths or weaknesses are because nothing he would say would change my mind that I belong in Slytherin. A...," Malfoy's face distorted in an ugly way, "Weasley," Rodolphus chuckled, knowing about the generation-long feud between the two families, "who feels perfectly fine in his little, cuddly family, who likes turning every Knut three times, who rather starves than steal his neighbor's turnips, who indulges in his own self-righteousness, will know his place is in Gryffindor, where his ancestors were. The virtues might play a role – but really they are general enough. Most of the students you can easily argue to place in three of the four houses. Maybe the hat will restrain from sending you to Ravenclaw because you really are too stupid... but he might just send you to your second favorite house instead. But if you, Rodolphus, really wanted to follow in your father's footsteps when you came to Hogwarts, why didn't you want to go to Slytherin?"

"I wanted Slytherin. That's why I'm here," Rodolphus snapped at him feeling offended.

Malfoy seemed amused. "You are here because you were too craven to chose the other house. Don't take me for a fool." Had Rodolphus still held one of the brooms, he'd whack it over Malfoy's head. What did he want? Hadn't he always emphasized, how Rodolphus, in fact, was a Slytherin? And now he said, he should have rather chosen the other house... Hufflepuff... Hufflepuff of all the houses. If Lucius only knew... Malfoy smiled oddly. "But hey, according to half of the students and staff of Hogwarts and the whole wizarding society, cowardice is among our attributes. So don't take this the wrong way."

"So...," Rodolphus scowled

"What the fuck are you doing in here?" Mason's voice boomed from the door. "I thought you'd follow just after us. Problems with the brooms?"

Malfoy turned to the brawny pureblood. "Since you're already here, you can take some more," he demanded, pointing at the brooms Rodolphus had dropped. Aris grumbled but took four of them, tucked them under his arms and left.

"So, no unnecessary 'Mudblood'-insults anymore, understood?" hissed Lucius, grabbing some brooms of his own.

Rodolphus took the last ones. "You still didn't tell me why you cared. And why did you help me, anyway? We're still no friends."

Malfoy shrugged, following Aris. The class looked in their direction blatantly impatient. "I don't know," he groaned, "but didn't I say you're a Slytherin? So don't let them push you around. It doesn't matter what we think of each other, out there against the other houses, we need to have our backs. We're Slytherins. We stick together."


	5. Brothers

**A/N: so... we're about to make a little time skip and jump to Christmas of their first year. Last chapter, I completely forgot to shortly name the important characteres in there year, so I'll do it after this chapter. After this, I think we know most of the more important characters to go on with the story. Everyone else that will come into the story from this point on, will either be unimportant, or a canon character I guess... Well, there will be one exception, that is Rodolphus godfather Hyperion, who's mentioned in this chapter, as well as a Cousin of Lucius, who'll appear later on.**

 **Have fun!**

 **Brothers!**

 **Christmas / 25** **th** **December 1966**

He uncomfortably fussed over his black hair. The house elf had cut and combed his wild locks, turning him into someone who didn't look remotely like himself. Now, he tried to fix it with his own fingers, so that he might at least recognize himself in his reflection on the marble tiles.

Fairly satisfied, he turned away from the wall. The great salon was really marvelous. Sure, most of the old families lived in rather opulent houses or mansions but the Malfoys were something else entirely, he had to admit. Nothing like the Lestranges, even though they surely were just as honorable. The house Rodolphus had grown up in was at least appropriately described with the word 'house'. The Lestrange's family seat was a fairly old townhouse in the city of Bath, hidden from muggle eyes. It might have been as big as two muggle row houses, he guessed, easily spacious enough for their family, but nothing special. Malfoy Manor on the other hand...

Malfoy Manor was a majestic, multistoried estate, with a private park in place of a front yard – not to mention their back yard. His father had already taken him to ceremonies or meet-and-greets to some of the other pureblood estates and there surely were some rather impressive places among them but still, the sheer sight of Malfoy Manor dwarfed them all. Maybe it was to a degree the state in which the manor was. Many of the old estates – and he'd just assumed that was how it was meant to be – had a dark air about them, dirty corners, spider webs, the distinct smell of century old dust. Malfoy Manor also looked old. Armaments in the hallways, magical artifacts, many from the Dark Arts, in old wooden vitrines, old portraits, and paintings of family members or landscapes on the walls, the obligatory family tree, carpets, fireplaces, marble and old walls which withstood the centuries brought the same old and honorable charm to the manor... But still, though most of it was certainly antique, it didn't really look that way. The armaments weren't rusty, the artifacts and the glass of the vitrines sparkled speckless, the paintings weren't dusty and the fireplaces didn't look as if the manor nearly burned down at least ten times in its past. The glass in the windows was so clean it was nearly invisible and the carpets carried the visitors softly around the manor. The gardens looked as if the elves had been ordered to cut them manually. House elves, of course, he knew that they would have done all the work. But those creatures weren't cheap and they'd need a lot of them to take care of such a big estate – plus they had to keep them on their toes all the time. His family had two elves as well and his home was a great deal smaller but it still was always dusty and full of spiderwebs, sometimes they even had a boggart. The Lestrange had always thought these things were just part of a magic household like the owl, the fireplace or the cauldron in the cellar. For the Malfoys, this obviously wasn't the case. Instead, they displayed how Pomp and Circumstance were due to a pureblood family that could hold its power over the centuries unlike any other.

That was it, wasn't it? These were the treasures and the power a pureblood deserved. This was what was taken from his own family due to the upsurge of the Mudbloods.

He looked at his reflection on the tiles over the fireplace for the last time. Above the tiles that were of an odd color somewhere between shimmering silver and deep blue-black, only defined by the light falling on it, the gigantic crest of the Malfoy family was displayed. He stared at it when suddenly another person was reflected next to him. He turned around. His father stood tall behind him, staring motionlessly at the reflections on the blank tiles.

"Father," Rodolphus started, feeling embarrassed, though he didn't know why.

"Are you enjoying yourself, Rodolphus?" came his father's lazy drawl.

"Yes, father." It was a lie, he felt rather bored but the question wasn't really meant anyway.

"I'm glad, you are..." He finally turned to look at his son. The two were unmistakably father and son. They shared the same thick black locks, the same dark eyes, the same eyebrows. Rodolphus always thought he had his mother's lips and nose but aside from that he was sure, should he grow up, he'd even get his father's strong jawline and distinctive facial features. His father, however, always had a tight lineament about his thin lips, that was not on Rodolphus' reflection, and that told of unspoken cruelty, nameless hate, and suppressed anger.

"You should spend the time with your peers," father suggested but it sounded more like an order.

Rodolphus gaze drifted to the other guests. He couldn't detect his 'peers' though. But of course, they had to be here somewhere. He guessed Malfoy had led the younger guests to a separate area. There were still a few teenager in this room, most of them several years older than him. He could see Bellatrix Black from FifthYear, speaking to a blonde boy about her age, who Rodolphus thought was Yaxley. Rodolphus didn't want to intrude there. Walden McNair from Seventh Year was talking to some of the adults but Rodolphus didn't really want to talk to this one either. McNair had something brutal and uncontrolled about him and during a Quidditch game against Hufflepuff, Rod had seen the boy crushing an opponent's shoulder with the bat instead of the bludger. He saw Crabbe and Goyle, too, but didn't really know them... Most obviously, they'd relieved the Malfoys of a good Whiskey, though. Apart from those older Slytherin students, he could see the Black brothers standing next to their parents. Rabastan as well was not that far away from Rod.

"Take Rabastan with you," his father demanded, looking at the younger son. "And Rodolphus, behave yourselves. I don't want to feel ashamed of you two. I'm glad you get along with the Malfoy boy."

For a moment he couldn't help but stare at his father. Him, getting along with Malfoy? Certainly, they got along better than Rodolphus would like to admit. Malfoy was an obnoxious human being but he was still surprised to find at least some pleasant conversations with him from time to time. But since their decision not to be friends fairly early in the year, they'd mostly ignored each other. Who had told his father that they'd get along?

Stephanus Lestrange furrowed his brows. But then he let his son go.

"Thanks, father," said Rodolphus and felt incredibly bad for not telling the truth.

Who had...? But really, he already knew the answer. There was only one person, who could have made his father believe they were actually friends. But what did Lucius Malfoy plan with that?

While crossing the room and grabbing Rabastan's hand, wordlessly dragging his brother with him, he decided it wouldn't do to ponder about Malfoy's motives. Sometimes, he thought his housemate just liked to play with everybody else.

When they left the salon he looked around. But he couldn't find Lucius nor any other kids in the entrance hall either. His gaze drifted to the ceiling. Unlike in the salon, there was no chandelier here. Huge candle bearers were placed on chests of drawers and tables of dark mahogany. There were also torches on the walls, which drowned the hall in a red light, that was just as magical as the spiderwebs and boggarts and house elf heads in his home. He curiously peeked up the stairs.

Actually, house elf heads should be somewhere in here, too, it occurred to him.

He knew Malfoy and his friends wouldn't be up there. It was more likely they'd stayed on the ground-floor or went outside. But instead of searching for them there, he dragged Rabastan to the stairs without even thinking about it.

"Where are you going?" asked Rabastan immediately. He knew as well they wouldn't be allowed to just walk around other people's houses on their own.

"I'm searching for Malfoy," Rodolphus lied but his brother wasn't stupid.

"Well, he won't be up there," he argued and of course he was right. This wasn't a child's birthday party. Lucius would hardly bring his parents' guests into his bedroom, to play hit the pot or hide and seek. "Rodolphus!" The eight-year-old tucked at his hand, when he didn't stop. "Where are you going?"

Rod looked at his brother, as if he just saw him for the first time. Then he turned around. They already were at the top of the stairs. What did he think? If their father found out they were just about to wander off on their own in the Malfoy's house, he'd be furious. He bit his lip. It would really be better to just turn around and pretend nothing had happened, before they were caught.

He turned around and nearly jumped from surprise when there was another kid, a little younger than Rabastan.

"What are you doing here?", he asked the boy, who stared up at him with big grey eyes. He recognized Sirius Black at once.

Sirius' eyes went from Rodolphus' face down the hallway.

"I thought you explored the house," he admitted casually, "or what are you doing up here?"

Curious, the boy strolled past Rodolphus and placidly wandered down the darkened corridor. The simple fact that the torches didn't burn up here should be evidence enough that they weren't welcome, he thought, watching the boy as he halted and then entered one of the many rooms, disappearing from his sight.

Rodolphus stared at Rabastan, then grabbed his hand again and followed to the open door. He exhaled relieved when it turned out to be just a guest room and not – Merlin, help him – Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy's bedroom. They hadn't invaded any private rooms yet, he told himself. But Black didn't seem particularly happy about that. Black looked from the four-poster bed to the bookshelf, bored. Then his gaze wandered to the portrait of a young blonde Lady, undoubtedly a Malfoy, even if her hair wasn't quite as fair as Lucius' or his father's was. She looked surprised over the edge of her book.

"Hmpf," made Sirius, strolling onto the balcony. Rodolphus followed after him.

"We should go back," he said firmly. "We've no right to be here."

"You're boring," Sirius complained, without even looking at him.

"Just let him be," urged Rabastan.

But Rodolphus ignored him. He was the oldest here. It was forbidden to explore the house, he was fairly sure of that. That was absolutely out of place. They'd get themselves into trouble and as the oldest, it was his duty to get the children back to where they belonged...

"Playing babysitter?" snickered an all too well-known voice. Rodolphus spun around, but he already knew, who was standing there.

Lucius Malfoy was leaning against the doorframe of the guest room. With only a few long strides he crossed the room towards the door to the balcony.

"Lucius!" the Lady in the portrait finally spoke, "would you please take those children out of my room?"

"Of course, Malice," he promised, though he seemed to restrain himself from rolling his eyes. "You and your brother, out. Black, come back."

Rodolphus followed his demands. Normally he wouldn't just do what Malfoy said but this was his house after all.

"Sirius?" he heard Lucius, several seconds later when the young Black apparently didn't follow his orders. "Would you please be so kind as to come from this balcony, so I can bring you back to your parents?"

Following Malfoy's mocking words, the youngest among them turned towards him.

"You're Malfoy," he noted disrespectfully. He curiously looked at a second glass door from the balcony, that would most likely lead into another room. "Are there no more exciting rooms in your house?" he demanded to know of a visibly annoyed Malfoy.

"Do you want me to show you the kennels? I'm sure our dogs will be perfectly capable of getting rid of your boredom," Malfoy sneered.

For a moment, something like excitement flashed in the Black's grey eyes. He seemed to search for adventure. But then his excitement ebbed away and was replaced by a scowl.

"Don't mock me!" he suddenly barked at Malfoy. Too young to understand irony, Rodolphus thought mildly amused, but old enough to realize when someone was making fun of him. Lucius laughed loudly. Amused but still annoyed – a rather impossible combination –, he surveyed the boy.

"Will you come willingly, or do I have to make you follow us back to the ground-floor?" he sounded blatantly threatening, but the Black boy just craned his head very untypically for a child of his age and upbringing, Rodolphus thought, seeing the defiance evidently on the boy's face. "Well, I don't feel like taking care of annoying little brats myself," Malfoy explained with his normal confident smile. He snapped his fingers and a split second later, a house elf appeared.

"Bring young Mr. Black back to his parents," Malfoy ordered. Before the elf even nodded, Malfoy had turned away from him and finally ushered the Lestrange brothers out of the room. Just when they closed the door, they heard the sound of the elf's apparition.

"Funny kid," Rodolphus thought frowning. He remembered that Sirius had always been kind of adventurous but the last time he'd seen him was already nearly one and a half years ago, and he'd just expected that he'd grow out of that. And it had never been this blatant.

"Yes," Lucius agreed, "did he really just wish to explore the house?"

"What did he think?" Rodolphus asked nearly automatically.

Rabastan made a snide snorting sound but he didn't say anything. Rodolphus felt rather grateful he didn't mention how Rodolphus had just wanted to do the same thing.

They descended the stairs. In the entrance hall, they could already see a small group gathering. He recognized Walburga and Orion Black, who were bent over someone, who had to be Sirius. Little Regulus Black was standing a little bit away from the rest of the group. Rod felt sudden remorse. He froze on the steps, guiltily looking at Malfoy, who didn't seem to care. Rod looked back at the crowd.

Stephanus Lestrange stood not too far from the stairs. He slightly moved his head, looking away from the group around Sirius and directly at them. His dark eyes first surveyed his elder son, then Rabastan, lastly Lucius. He strode towards them.

"Where have you been?", he asked eying his sons.

He couldn't lie. He couldn't lie to his father, not really. He was never good at lying, not to him. It was quite shameful for a Slytherin really. He could confirm somebody else's lie, that much he could do, but tell it himself...? He helplessly glanced at Malfoy.

"We were...–," Malfoy started unperturbed. His face didn't show a lie, though he obviously planned to tell one. The truth wouldn't start with 'we'.

"Rodolphus did go upstairs," Rabastan blurted meekly. He looked at their father with huge round eyes.

Fury boiled in his insides. Lucius could have lied for them. Lucius, the host's son, would have told their father whichever tale he needed to hear and it would have been okay because Lucius would have given them an excuse their father would have to accept. Because even if Stephanus Lestrange might have smelled the lie, if a Malfoy took somebody else to the upper floors of Malfoy Manor, that was his right. Something he might have to explain to his own father, but surely not to Rodolphus'.

But Rabastan had given in too soon... and Rodolphus hated him for that, even though he couldn't really blame him. He might have done the same, had he been Rabastan's age. He was three years older and hadn't managed a word, so who was he to blame Rabastan?

Stephanus straightened looking down on them. If looks could kill... He wanted to run away, hide in one of the thousand rooms of the Manor. But that would make everything even worse. He'd shame his father... Up until now the other guests at least didn't know and that had to stay that way.

Rodolphus tried to look away from his father. Instead, he looked to Malfoy. He was pale as always but he didn't smile, though his eyes still carried the same confident arrogance. But there was something else. His brows slightly furrowed as he glared back at Mr. Lestrange. He looked furious. Lucius hadn't cared when he had delivered Sirius, who he hardly knew, to his parent's wrath but now...

If looks could kill.

Even Rodolphus' father seemed to see it now. A strange expression came over the old Lestrange's face. Rodolphus had never seen this expression on his father's face. An irritated frown, curiosity, and then something that came oddly close to a respectful smile.

Rodolphus stared from one to the other. Malfoy's expression didn't change, even when Stephanus Lestrange's smile died away and he turned back to Rodolphus. The atmosphere between those two was tense and Rod nearly flinched when Malfoy walked away. His housemate didn't look at him, nor did he say anything, but Rod could practically hear him grind his teeth.

He left him to his father like he'd left Black to his parents but this time, he obviously hated it.

And suddenly the anger was back. This time, it was even greater than his fury towards his father or his brother. What did Malfoy want from him!? They weren't even friends, so why did he care? Why was it that he didn't care one bit for Sirius but then he suddenly cared for Rodolphus?

 _We're Slytherins – We stick together._

He didn't care what his father had to say. Most likely he didn't have to say anything at all. Most likely he wanted Rodolphus to just act as if nothing happened, to avoid a fuss. Most likely he'd make him feel the consequences of his behavior only at home. But he didn't even wait to find that out. He hurried after Malfoy because he had to know. He didn't understand the other boy. He caught up to the blonde at the double door leading to the lounge.

"So, what are we?" he panted.

Lucius seemed surprised. The confusion was plain on his face. "Wizards?" he tried.

"Where do we stand?" the Lestrange went on. "We're not friends. We talked about that, right?"

Lucius nodded, startled. "I recall you can't stand me," he sneered a bit spiteful.

"And still you're always there when I need help," Rod countered though it was a bit embarrassing to admit, "or you try to, at least."

"Do you want me to stop?" Malfoy sneered.

"That's not what I meant... No... But we're no friends, so what is it? Why are you helping me?" he asked as directly as possible.

Malfoy stared at him as if he wanted to hit him in the face. As if he couldn't believe Rodolphus actually had to ask and didn't understand on his own. He chuckled mockingly.

"No wonder the hat took so long...," he scoffed, "if you don't know even that."

"Don't give me that shit!" Rod snarled. "Just say it."

"Brothers...," Malfoy snarled back. He actually sounded as if he felt offended.

Rodolphus stared at him.

Slytherin. Brothers. Family...

Lucius swatted Rod's hand away with which he had grabbed onto his robes.

"Well, what did you think?" Malfoy still sounded oddly hurt. "Or what did you think the 'fraternity' part among the Slytherin virtues meant?"

"Sirius...," Rodolphus stammered.

"Is just a kid – and a stupid one, if you ask me," Lucius finished his sentence.

"You said I was only in Slytherin because I was too craven to follow my own path."

"Well, look at that. You're actually listening to what I say," Malfoy said flatly, then he shrugged. "Well, it doesn't really make a difference anyway. You chose Slytherin and the hat put you there. Somewhere in that head of your's, there should be a Slytherin. And even if not, every family has a black sheep, right? Ask your uncle Hyperion."

Rodolphus flinched at the name. His godfather – his mother's brother – Hyperion Greengrass was a blood traitor. There was no denying that. Father said he was even friends with Dumbledore. Even if he wasn't, his pro-muggle policies were a disgrace for the whole family.

"And you surely wouldn't be the only one... Just ask the halfbloods," Malfoy mused. But when Rod scowled at him, he added, "well you'd sooner be a grey sheep, I guess."

 **A/N:**

 **so as promised:**

 **these are the most important characters in Lucius and Rodolphus' year. Most of them are my own:**

 **I guess I just give you a complete list of the year and mark the more important, so you're not confused if you find some new names in the chapters to come: (plus while I know that blood state isn't really important, as this story is mostly written from Rod's point of view, blood state in fact is very important^^)**

 _ **Hufflepuff:**_

 **Logan Abbott i** **s a pureblood, blonde and a rather crafty young man, and he has an unhealthy rivalry with Lucius**

 **Serene Blackthorn is Halfblood**

 **Alfred Dingle is Muggleborn**

 **Samuel Dunn is Muggleborn and a friend of Logan**

 **Martinius Ivory is Pureblood and very bright, but quiet**

 **Jennifer Miles** **is Muggleborn, bright and sympethatic and a friend of Logan and Samuel.**

 **Udine Schiffer is halfblood**

 **Andres Schwarz is halfblood he's friends with Jennifer, Samuel and Logan**

 **Purple Taylor is pureblood of a rather poor and unimportant family**

 **Gregoria Vince is presumably halfblood and a good friend of Udine.**

 _ **Gryffindor:**_

 **Henrietta Evan is halfblood**

 **Jonathan Fletcher** **is not related to Mundungus Fletcher, muggleborn and the strongest rival/enemy of Rodolphus in school, he's friends with the Prewett twins.**

 **Dorian Handelmer is halfblood, he's not a particularly good student but he's a nice and pleasant boy and gets along with everybody and is thus very popular in his house and with the teacher, despite his mediocre grades.**

 **Elisabeth Lorenz is halfblood**

 **Lucas Miller is muggleborn and a good friend of Dorian.**

 **Gideon and Fabian Prewett** **are pureblood and a lot like their nephews Fred and George. They are friends with Jonathan and while they don't like Rodolphus they absolutely hate Lucius.**

 **Katelyn Queen is also muggleborn and friends with Dorian and Lucas**

 **Michelle Salamander is halfblood**

 **Evelyn Scar** **is pureblood and will later have some problems with Diana and some other Slytherins.**

 ** _Ravenclaw_** **:**

 **Ricarda Green is halfblood**

 **Bertha Jorkins is halfblood (Canon)**

 **Lisa Macmillan is pureblood**

 **Amanda Ollivander is pureblood and niece to Garrick Ollivander**

 **Quirinius Quirrel is halfblood (Canon)**

 **Marin Rain** **is pureblood and a friend of Lucius'**

 **Charles Slewyn is pureblood and comes from a dark family, he's also friends with both Rodolphus and Lucius**

 **Amita Shafiq is pureblood**

 **Tobias Smith is halfblood**

 **Yami Balthasar is pureblood**


	6. The Awful Prank (Part I)

**A/N: First things first! anon: thanks for your review! You're interested in more interactions between those too, well, those following two chapters are all about that. However, you were absolutely right about my punctuation and that's why...**

 **I HAVE A BETA! Thank you so much to TheNameIsWatson**! **She has way more readers than me, however, if you read this, and don't know her, she's currently writing an awesome HP ff about Harry, Draco, the Malfoys and ... well, look for yourself!**

 **Moving on!**

 **As mentioned, this is mostly interaction between Lucius and Rodolphus. I don't really want to call this a filler chapter, but it's really mostly about those two forming a relationship, that's not just empty talk from Lucius, but actually something more. As you might be able to assume from the title, this chapter was so long, I had to break it in two. Hope, you're still going to like it!**

The awful prank

 **The End of May 1967**

"'Peel', McTavish, it says 'peel' not purée," Malfoy sneered through their classroom.

They had potions and Tarquin was having difficulties peeling the Blood Blisterpods, effectively squashing it and spreading the juice over the whole table. His potion had the wrong color, too. Malfoy had already put a safe distance between Tarquin's cauldron and himself. It was close to exams week, so everyone was a little nervous and many students had their heads somewhere else. Rodolphus own brew wasn't exactly perfect either. It was too dark and too thick. He looked for Professor Slughorn, who was just peeking over Ariadne Yaxley's cauldron and looked pretty satisfied with her work before he went on to Gideon Prewett. Slughorn slowly shook his head and gave some advise to the boy but Prewett's potion didn't seem half as bad as did Tarquin's. Only Dorian Handelmer, another Gryffindor, seemed to have even greater problems than McTavish. At least, Slughorn seemed to think it was hopeless and let the potion disappear with a flourish of his wand.

Tarquin's brewage was thick and slimy and of cyan color, instead of the desirable dark brown. He blushed when Malfoy commented his work and started sweating, agitatedly pressing the knife against the pod way to hard, making it slide away from the blade and practically jump into the cauldron. Rodolphus made a panicked jump to the side, while Emma Rowle and Malfoy laughed quietly.

Interestingly enough, the potion didn't explode but instead shrank into a think, blue lump. To even call this thing a potion now would do it an injustice. It looked more like a stone. McTavish's face got nearly violet from embarrassment but he didn't answer to Malfoy's mockery. Three weeks ago he had tried to throw Malfoy off his broom during their flying lessons. The blonde did fall off eventually, hovering about a yard over the ground, and didn't get more than a small bruise from it while the red-haired got detention for two weeks. After that, Tarquin had oddly quieted down. Rodolphus thought he might feel bad about it – his pranks had gotten pretty malicious lately – or had just calmed down. Maybe he was concentrating on his exams- at least, that was what Rodolphus was hoping for. He didn't wish for any unpleasant distractions.

Now as well, he stayed calm while Slughorn hexed his potion away and wrote his zero points down.

"Pour some water in it," Janis whispered at Rodolphus, pointing at the Lestrange's thickly potion. "I have exactly the opposite problem," he admitted on the quiet, pointing at his watery brew. Johanson frowned. Sure, Rod could pour some water in it, but Janis would have to drain his potion, and that was more difficult.

"We could mix our potions," Rodolphus suggested.

So they did. The Lestrange watched from a safe distance as Johanson mixed the two potions with each other. Nothing happened, so Rodolphus drew closer again. He could see a few lighter traces in his brew, that quickly dissolved. At the end, it did work and though he got no Outstanding, Slughorn marked both Rod and Janis with Exceeds Expectations.

––––––

The next morning they had two free periods, which was why everyone woke up at different times. Rodolphus had written to his father until late at night, so he was still a little tired when he forced himself to stand up. He still wanted to write his astronomy paper. Unfortunately, he had overestimated his writing speed, he thought when he started reading the assignment. He'd never manage to read the chapter and write one and a half feet parchment within half an hour.

Malfoy had woken up about half an hour prior to him, he guessed. He'd been in the bathroom ever since. At least he reckoned it was Malfoy. He was the only one who could occupy the bathroom for that long. Tarquin had left the common room in high spirits, shortly after Rod had awakened. He hadn't even seen Johanson and Mason.

Rodolphus repeatedly looked from his parchment to the bathroom door. He'd wanted to at least brush his teeth before going to class, even if he didn't manage to finish the paper. He frowned after another 10 minutes had passed. Had Malfoy drowned or what was he doing in there? He'd always taken his time but it had never been this unreasonable, Rod mused. He didn't really worry, though, but he was certainly distracted.

He still had hardly written five sentences when the door suddenly opened. Malfoy stood in the doorway, stiffening and blanching when he saw the Lestrange.

They stared at each other. Malfoy was naked from the waist up, his hair in a Slytherin green towel, which he hold with his left hand. When he regenerated from his initial shock to see the Lestrange – though Rod marveled why that would even shock him – he let his gaze drift through the dorm, looking relieved nobody else was there. He looked as if he felt sick, Rod thought, and easily visible on his pale skin were red blushes from embarrassment and...

Rodolphus let his gaze roam over Malfoy, the pale skin at his shoulders, arms, and torso. Over shoulders and breast and – Rod reckoned – most likely his shoulder blades, he had big, ugly marks in every possible and impossible shade of red. Something, he was sure, Malfoy didn't have the day before.

Malfoy's gaze followed Rodolphus onto his torso, where the spots seemed fibrous and oddly shaped and looked like a painful and contagious decease. He blanched even further if that was even possible. He smacked his hand over his breast as if he could conceal the spots that way, but his hands and forearms were even worse, Rodolphus realized. He could even see it on his forehead.

"What the bloody hell are you still doing here?" Lucius snarled willingly threatening. But just the fact that he was using curses showed how little control he had over himself. He actually seemed close to tears. Rodolphus was startled at first, then he realized Malfoy might have only waited that long to make sure nobody was there to see him this way. As he understood that, Rod's brain switched on again and suddenly he thought this situation amusing. Lucius Malfoy, the great Lucius Malfoy, chalk-white, and half naked in the bathroom door, with ugly spots all over his body, which made him feel ashamed enough to be absolutely unable to move. For a moment, a spiteful part of Rodolphus wanted to leave for the common room and tell everyone. Malfoy with his snobbish confidence certainly deserved that much, he thought. But he didn't move.

"Homework...," he murmured with a growing smile on his face. Malfoy's eyes narrowed.

"Having fun?" he barked.

"Sure," Rod admitted. He could see anger creeping on Malfoy's face. But it didn't overshadow the shame.

"Give me my wand," demanded the blonde evenly, but still with a weaker voice than usual. He pointed at his bedside cabinet, where his elm wand was lying. Rodolphus decided to give him that much. But when he threw the wand at Malfoy, he didn't manage to grab it with his right, and it fell down. His face contorted.

"What did you do?" Rodolphus asked still grinning. "Did you pick up some odd skin disorder? What's that? Dragon pox?" The Lestrange had never seen a case of dragon pox, but he'd always thought, it would look just like that.

"Haha, very funny," the Malfoy snapped. "Dragon pox are deadly."

"And contagious," Rodolphus added, "so stay away from me. I don't want to look like you."

Malfoy only seemed to barely control himself, though the Lestrange didn't know whether he'd burst into tears or attack him should he lose his control.

"Don't worry," he snarled through gritted teeth, "these are no dragon pox. As far as I know I'm not contagious either." He bent low to get his wand. His towel shifted at the movement.

Rodolphus held his breath, when he saw, what was hidden under it. Then he burst into broad laughter. Malfoy's platinum hair was absolutely destroyed. His magnificent head of hair, which already was his trademark at the whole school, shimmered in an ugly muddy greenish tone. At many points it stuck together, even seemed to fall loose. Rodolphus tried to calm down. This ceased to be funny very soon, he realized, but he still couldn't shut up.

Malfoy froze. "Shhh," he hissed grabbing his wand and pointing it at Rodolphus almost desperately. When he got up again, his towel slipped off his head completely, educing a groan from him that sounded like a mixture of pain and shock. Suddenly he jumped at Rodolphus. "Damn, be quiet! Or do you want to draw them in?" he hissed whispering. "Is that what you want, eh? That they all laugh at me?" Rodolphus shook his head. He didn't want to draw them closer, he didn't even want to laugh anymore. "Please, Rod," begged Malfoy. An odd mixture of panic, shame, and hurt flashed over his face when he clamped his hands over Rod's face to make him shut up. "Please, Rod!" When Rodolphus felt the rough red skin of his hands on his face, he suddenly flinched.

" _Silencio,_ " Rod's laughter died down immediately, though he still moved his mouth, and the muscles in his belly were still contracting. He stopped completely after a short while, though.

"Sorry," Lucius hissed honestly. He spoke a _"Colloportus,"_ at the door, then he turned back to Rodolphus. "That should be enough. They'll know I don't just shut the door for fun." And Janis was the only one able to do a decent Alohomora yet, Rodolphus thought. "Please promise me, you won't tell anyone," Lucius begged. Rodolphus reckoned he'd never used the word 'please' this often in his entire life. Rod nodded.

"Right...," Lucius too nodded fiercely as if to muster the courage. He took the 'Silencio' off Rod. "So...," he began obviously fighting with himself about what to say, "help me for today, okay? I think I could need your help. We're Slytherins, so we must stick together, right?" he reminded him. "Just today. I know you can't really stand me but..." Something desperate flickered in his eyes, and Rod thought it might be panic.

"Sure," he cut in.

Lucius was visibly relieved. Rodolphus, on the other hand, felt slightly odd. Normally it was Malfoy helping him, not the other way round.

"What happened?" he asked after a short break. He hesitated. "Since, you know, it's not contagious?"

"I'm not sick," Malfoy grumbled and stood up. He didn't look panicked anymore, instead, the pain was more visible on his face. He went back to the bathroom. Rod gasped for air when he saw Malfoy's back. The red spots didn't only mark his shoulder blades but trailed in thin lines over the boy's entire back, down to the trousers. Where his wasted hair touched his skin, it was so thin, he could see the veins blue and fibrous on the reddish skin. Here and there he could even see blood.

Rod needed a while to recover from the initial shock. He followed Malfoy to the bathroom. The other boy was sitting on a wooden stool in front of the mirror. He looked at himself with open disgust. After a while, he grabbed a bottle and threw it at the Lestrange. Only when he caught it did he realized what it was.

"You use a conditioner?" he asked.

"That's not the problem here," Malfoy snapped at him, but he turned a little pink around the ears. "Just don't open it. I'm sure someone mixed something in it."

He pointed at his hair, his scalp, the spots on his neck, hands and shoulders. Sure, if his conditioner was poisoned, the injuries at those different parts of his body made perfect sense.

"Someone?" Rodolphus repeated. Malfoy cocked an eyebrow.

"McTavish, if I have to guess," he answered, "I knew, the idiot was planning something."

"You don't know that," Rodolphus tried to defend their housemate. "Theoretically..."

"THEORETICALLY!" Malfoy snapped white from ire. "Who else should it have been? The only other one who'd come into question..." He quieted. Rod knew what he was thinking, though. Aris was an idiot but he would never harm Malfoy. And Janis, while he might be good for some fun, would never go that far. Rodolphus would be the only one who, given a good reason, might do something like that to Malfoy, other than Tarquin.

"Sorry," Malfoy murmured meekly. "I know, it wasn't you. You wouldn't go that far."

A week ago, Malfoy had pulled a prank on him when he'd shut him in their dorm and forgotten about him until after lunch. It was a little joke, like Malfoy pulled them from time to time since he hung around Tarquin more often now. It was quite harmless really and Rodolphus wasn't really mad at him but he'd thought about avenging himself.

"I still have to do my astronomy paper," Rod suddenly thought.

"Astronomy?" Malfoy said incredulously. "You've got to help me get rid of this mess. Please. I don't know what to do but I won't leave the dorm that way. Take my paper if you want, but help me, dammit! Your father is a healer at 's, right?"

Rodolphus stared at him. He didn't have enough time for the paper anyway. "Keep your paper," he murmured and eyed the red spots on his skin.

"Merlin, just take it. I'm at Exceeds Expectations in Astronomy at the moment even without the paper."

Rodolphus didn't want to argue, so he just nodded. "I don't know how to help you, though...," he admitted apologetically, "does it hurt?"

"It bites... like acid or something like that. Especially where the hair touches the skin. I tried to wash it off, but it didn't really work..."

"Do you know, what kind of poison that is?" If they were talking about poisons and potions, Malfoy would sooner know than him, Rodolphus reckoned.

"No," Malfoy answered insecurely. "It smells like a magical lacquer my father sells in the apothecary, though."

"We should go to the infirmary," Rodolphus said.

"No!" Malfoy nearly screamed. "I won't set one step out of this dormitory like that."

"Oh, don't be stupid."

"I have a reputation to lose."

"Is that worth more than your health? If I do something wrong, maybe you'll never get better again."

"You don't have to heal them completely just enough to make it more presentable. I can't glamour all of it away... But I'd rather give my hand than let anyone see me this way." He hesitated, then added, "not my wand hand, the other..."

Rodolphus snorted.

"I...," Rodolphus hesitated, "I used my first accidental magic when I burnt my hand at father's cauldron. I relieved the burns." Maybe something like that would help, he thought.

Malfoy smiled confidently. "Can you control that? My first accidental magic wasn't as delicate as that..." Rodolphus nodded uncertainly. He actually could control it... or rather, he'd used that form of magic again when his brother hurt himself once. "Father taught me an anodyne charm, too," he added.

"First the painkilling one, then the one against burns...," Lucius demanded.

Rodolphus hurried back to his bed, to get his wand. He glanced at the hourglass, too. They'd be late for astronomy.

Back in the bathroom, he pointed at Malfoy's neck. The formula Rodolphus spoke was rather long and in English, instead of latin. There were other, arithmetically shortened versions of the spell, he knew, but he'd always had more success with this formula.

Lucius breathed in audibly when the white lite hit the reddened skin in his neck.

"There...," he mumbled more relieved than a few minutes back. "A private healer, I like that. Do you think you can do the charm against the burns?"

"Not really," Rodolphus admitted, putting his wand away.

"Try it regardless," Malfoy demanded, "now that you have a willing victim to train your talent." Malfoy chuckled but his shoulders were tense. Rodolphus realized he was afraid, even if he was too proud to admit it. After all, if Rodolphus couldn't control it, he could ruin him completely.

Rod nodded. "I think it's best, you try the less severe spots first," Malfoy said, "and Rodolphus...," he glanced at the Lestrange, "If something happens, get a prefect or teacher. Nobody else, okay? If anyone else has to see me that way, at least someone who has a sense of duty."

Rodolphus nodded and raised his hands. Malfoy cocked an eyebrow at the gesture but Rodolphus ignored it. He'd always used this magic without a wand. Truth be told, he didn't know how to do it with one. He drew a deep breath and sensed for his magic. The wondrous energy surged through him and he led it to the tips of his fingers and over Malfoy's back. He was a wizard since he drew his first breath, but still, he never felt as magical as in that moment when he wandlessly drew on his powers. For a moment, he even forgot about Malfoy, bathing in this feeling of power and wonder. Then he opened his eyes and focussed on the not so blonde Slytherin in front of him.

Lucius hissed. Rodolphus immediately drew his hand away. That didn't sound good, he thought, but Malfoy's breath evened out at once. "It felt cold," Malfoy said, "not bad. I was just surprised at first. But I don't really feel different. Has it changed?"

Rodolphus was relieved that he hadn't hurt the other boy. "I think it paled a bit...," he murmured, looking at the spot he'd tried to heal. He was pretty sure. Triumph danced in his eyes.

"Then go on..."

It took a while. Nearly half an hour later, Rodolphus had worked himself up to the boy's neck, which he had to treat several times. He still had pink marks everywhere but if one only saw his face, they might just think, he'd slept heavily on his face. Lucius smiled happily.

"Thanks," he eyed his face in the mirror. "Now the hair."

Rodolphus groaned annoyed. "What do you want me to do with it?" Lucius' hair looked just as bad as before. Rod didn't think he could do anything to save it. He was sure while he'd treated Malfoy, some wisps had come out.

"Just chop it off," Malfoy said looking as if he'd rather lose his legs. He looked helpless.

"You can do that on your own," Rodolphus complained. A magical shave wasn't that difficult.

"I guess...," Malfoy agreed, "but my scalp hurts worse than anything else," he hesitated and cringed, "I don't want to accidentally scalp myself... Better someone does that, who can actually see, what he's doing."

Rodolphus just realized how much trust Malfoy just placed in Rodolphus' more than doubtful healing abilities. But he didn't ask again. He took his wand.

He had been right. It was the easiest thing in the world to turn Malfoy into a baldie. But what hid underneath his hair brought the Lestrange close to vomiting. Malfoy buried his face in his hands when he saw it in his reflection. It was far worse than his neck. His head was dark red, nearly violet, and bloody. For a moment, he thought, he saw Malfoy's shoulders trembling and he was sure he was crying.

"I'll kill him," he growled between his hands. "I'll kill him the next time I see him! That mangy halfblood!" He raised his head and stared at himself with wide eyes. Then he swallowed.

"We'll go to the infirmary," he decreed. "Thank you but...," Rodolphus shook his head. He wouldn't have risked treating his head even if Malfoy had begged him to. He wouldn't be able to heal it either way, he reckoned. "If you want to go to astronomy...," Malfoy continued. They didn't even need to look at the hour glass. "I'm afraid you've missed the first period for my sake," he noted dryly. Rodolphus didn't care. Lucius looked horrible.

"I'll take you there."

"You've done enough...," said the Malfoy, though he sounded relieved. Rodolphus shrugged.

"Maybe Pomfrey can excuse me for astronomy. We go together. I don't know how long this painkilling charm works, so I go with you."

He went to their first aid kit and got a cooling ointment that he put on Malfoy's head before he wrapped a bandage around it. Malfoy nearly screamed from the touch, making Rodolphus flinch. However, he seemed relieved when he didn't have to see the injuries anymore.

Malfoy dressed himself. He even put a pair of thin gloves on. It was the midst of may. Rodolphus chuckled at that. But Malfoy ignored him, pulled up a hood and even wrapped up his face behind a cloth mask, disguising himself nearly completely.

"You look like father when-," Rodolphus trailed off, shocked what he was about to say. But Malfoy ignored that, too, and just shrugged.

Rodolphus got his bag, while Malfoy took the Colloportus from the door. As if it was perfectly normal for two first years, to stroll through Hogwarts after 10 o'clock without breakfast, while they should be in classes, one of them disguised from head to toe, they left the common room and made their way to the infirmary.

Well, it was not normal and that was why it was difficult not to attract attention. In the Slytherin common room, nobody really cared for the two first years even if one of them was wrapped up like a Death Eater. Some of the other students looked at them but that was it. Outside, they were alone at first. The dungeons were nearly empty. Once, Rodolphus stopped when a cold sentiment came over him and he was sure he'd just passed through a ghost. Turning around, they saw the Bloody Baron disappearing into a wall as if he'd just appeared out of nowhere to fly through Rodolphus, only to disappear again. They went on and climbed the stairs. Now it got complicated.

 **A/N: Tarquin went a little bit too far, I fear. This was born from the question, what it would take, to get Lucius Malfoy to cut off his hair. Plus I really wanted to see him at least once, with short hair.**

 **I'd still love to read about your opinions.**

 **Greetings,**

 **Ceies**


End file.
